This self-portrait was during the aftermath of a catastrophic flooding. A monster swell of water (measured 15 metres wide) swept through the lower valley where I live taking whatever was in it’s path. It tore through the lower garden of my property before continuing on to pick up 4 cars and smash them into the wall of the town hall. It was surreal and frightening. The clear-up operation instructed by the Mayor was to clear and widen the stream, including the part of the stream that ran through my garden. I arrived home to diggers and chainsaws and fires and what had once been a secret garden of pretty trees and dappled light through leaves was now razed to the ground. The following morning I stood at the edge of the stream watching the remaining wooden embers burn.
Self-portraits of myself are rare, for the most part these fleeting studies serve to still my soul.