WHERE sunshine flecks the green,
Through towering woods my way
Goes winding all the day.
Scant are the flowers that bloom
Beneath the bosky screen
And cage of golden gloom.
Few are the birds that call,
Shrill-voiced and seldom seen.
Where silence masters all,
And light my footsteps fall,
The whispering runnels onlyWith blazing noon confer;
And comes no breeze to stir
The tangled thickets lonely.
– Siegfried Sassoon (1886–1967). The Old Huntsman and Other Poems. 1918.
This is something very different from all of my previous work. Landscape! Lots of green and green is the my fearful colour of all. The reason is because I find this colour very tricky, especially when it comes to realism art. It can turn out to be very cartoony or very rigid.
I got the inspiration when I was vacationing in Bandung, Indonesia last December. We stayed in a resort up on