In today’s post I move from the observed forest, in the Day 7 post through the abstract forest in my Day 2 post, to the imagined forest. To all of these, combined.

Fairytales have long involved deep dark forests – both magical and terrifying. Forests are also highly spiritual places. In stories, forests can protect the hunted, heal the sick and attack the unwary. Forests transform us, show us new creatures and enable us to see magic.

As you might guess, as a child I read all of the fairytales, and it was the beginning of my interest in writing. The idea of disappearing into a magical world, making friends with the animals and escaping reality was so attractive. As I grew older and watched films where moving trees would entangle people and imprison them, they took on an edge of danger too. Add spiders, snakes and other real creatures… my love of forests became highly imagined and theoretical. During teenage years. I preferred to be on the beach.

Reawakening the Love of Forests

When I reached my early 20’s a close friend moved to Tasmania. Visiting her, I saw the old growth forests for the first time. This was the time of the fight to save the Franklin River from being damed. A year or two later, I was studying the politics of the environment as part of my BA. Unexpectedly, I was drawn to these wild places, but as a city girl, unaware of how to exist in them without the comforts of home. Reality and fantasy became entwined with the photographs of moss-covered logs lying next to wild rivers and giant trees. Peter Dombrovskis captured this best. He was an amazing photographer.

Capturing the Imagined

I find in many of my abstract paintings of forest, an aspect of the imagined: the golden light coming through branches, fresh greens, a hint of something just out of sight. Living on a property with dry sclerophyll forest, I also hold onto the reality in front of me. Mostly.

With the painting ‘The Fabled Forest’ I departed from that reality. The trunks resemble birch trees, the background is deep red and purple, creating many shadowy spots. Undergroth is highlighted with metalic copper paint. There is something unworldly about it. While it isn’t scary, there is a sense that to enter those shadows is a risk. Looking at it, I recall all of those tropes in the fairytales. Trails of breadcrumbs, a wolf about to leap into my path, a little cottage just over the horizon and a clearing full of flowers. Enticing and thrilling as we enter the unknown.

Recently, I have put the original painting up for sale on my Bluethumb artist page.

If you enjoyed this post, you can read more in the series here.