LAND 11 – Bro Odde to Slusegård, 17.03.23

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LAND 11 The LAND project demands more ever from me physically as the sun rises earlier and the days lengthen but is a much-welcomed respite – the fulcrum upon which the rhythm of the week rests.

This week I started at the beach at Bro Odde and was reminded of both the similarities and the differences to my KYST project around Bornholm’s coastline five years ago. The strong southern wind threw the waves onto the shore, and I embraced the invigorating wildness of the coast.

View from the bench at Bro Odde

Soon, however it was time to move on, and I headed inland. I walked past a farm with some curious and rather skittish horses, surprised to see a passer-by so early in the morning.

I entered the forested summerhouse area that stretches along the southern coast. Originally, this had been an area of ever-shifting sand dunes, but it had been planted with pine trees in the mid-1800s. Later still, the whole area had been given over to summerhouses, and hundreds of them lie hidden between the pines.

Deep in the forest I explored the two huge gun emplacements, built by the German occupying troops during the Second World War. Originally planned to house two 38 cm cannons weighing 110 tons each, the artillery units were intended to obstruct Soviet forces from sailing through the Baltic Sea. They were, however, never completed, and now lie crumbling and almost hidden by the trees.

Gun emplacement G4

Moss and fern cover the graffiti-covered concrete walls, while roots choked the foundations. I thought about long-forgotten temples being reclaimed by the rainforest in Southeast Asia, and the concentric circles of the gun emplacement reminded me particularly of Borobudur temple in Java, Indonesia. This was, however, a temple to violence, at its centre not a seated Buddha, but instead giant steel screws to house the death-bringing cannon. The site was a reminder of man’s cruelty, but also of nature’s ability to eventually reclaim and heal all of our wounds.

Gun emplacement G3

I moved on, back into the fields. It felt good to be out in the open again moving through the landscape under an expansive sky. In the distance, the blue remembered hills of Paradisbakkerne.

View to Paradisbakkerne from Tjørnebyvejen

Eventually, I walked back into the pine forest and summerhouse area. I tried to capture the colours of the birch and pine forest, the heather and the sand, but I was tired, and I struggled to concentrate on the job at hand.

Coastal path by Sandvejen

I finished the day in Slusegaard, where the stone cottage housing a water wheel was reflected in the calm waters of the Mill Pond.

Mill Pond at Slusegård


WEATHER REPORT – overcast most of the day. Temperature 3 – 8 degrees. Wind 5 – 8 m/s from the south. Hours of precipitation: 0 hours. Hours of sunshine: 1 hours.

STOPS with the BIVVY – 0


DAY LASTED – 11h and 59m


BIRDS SEEN and HEARD – 36 species: 2 new (coot and black-headed gull, running total = 66 species)

LESSONS LEARNED – Nothing springs to mind

IN MY HEAD – For much of the day, I found it very hard to stop thinking about the planned Biogas expansion, the radio and TV interviews, the meetings and the forthcoming debates.

LAND 10 – Bodils Church to Bro Odde, 10.03.23

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LAND 10 Dawn at Bodil’s Church. Ahead, the flatlands of southern Bornholm stretched off into the distance. The sky grey and dark, my mood darker still.

Dawn. View from Hønselundsvejen

I headed south, the frigid east wind blowing across the frozen fields. The landscape felt imperceptibly different. The fields were large, dull and flat, the narrow country roads straight.

I stopped at the side of the road in the shelter of a small brick building – the old waterworks. Here, sandwiched between two huge industrial farms and a large solar panel farm, is a small uncultivated area – all that remains of a much larger meadow and wetland that once dominated this area. Drained and intensively cultivated, this small field was left fallow in the 90s, and was now brimming with life. Roe deer and hare grazed together with geese; stock doves, starlings, and lapwings milled around, while a rough-legged buzzard and a red kite circled above hunting for rodents, before settling in a nearby tree.

I walked on, continuing south. The solar farm looked like a strange geometric lake in the distance.

View from Graanakkevej mod vest.

Eventually I arrived on the edge of Hundsemyre, one of Bornholm’s wildest areas – over 50 acres of lake, swamp, forest, and scrub. As I entered, honking greylag geese scattered, their wingtips zipping up the air. In just a few days the reserve closes for the breeding season, and I felt like an intruder. Much of the path was waterlogged, but the mud and water were frozen, making it easier for me to navigate. Alder, willow, and birch dominated, and the dark swamp felt wonderfully neglected.

Melting ice and alder trees

Cormorants and various ducks sheltered from the wind or prepared to nest. I was overjoyed to get great views of a lesser spotted woodpecker, my first good sighting on Bornholm for over 10 years. My mood lifted somewhat.

The lesser spotted woodpecker (very cute)
Cormorants in the dead trees overlooking the lake
More cormorant studies

Leaving the reserve, I passed a charismatic herd of highland cattle.

I walked on, unable now to stop for long because of the cold. I walked through the outskirts of the village of Snogebæk, and continued, zigzagging across the fields and small roads, trying to keep warm. I could hear the roar of the sea.

Hares and geese, Smedvejen

As the sky darkened imperceptibly, I made one more painting, before walking through a summer house area and arriving at Bro Odde, the coast, where the foaming sea tumbled onto to the beach.

Dusk, from the bench, Søndre Mosevej


WEATHER REPORT – overcast all day. Temperature 0 – 2 degrees. Wind 3 – 5 m/s from the east. Hours of precipitation: 0 hours. Hours of sunshine: 0 hours.

STOPS with the BIVVY – 0


DAY LASTED – 11h and 15m


BIRDS SEEN and HEARD – 43 species: 11 new (Lesser spotted woodpecker, Stock dove, Great black-backed gull, Rough-legged buzzard, Goosander, Tufted duck, Teal, Shelduck, Barnacle goose, White-fronted goose, Mute swan, running total = 64 species)

LESSONS LEARNED – I should have taken my tarp, even though it was dry, I could have done with the cover.

IN MY HEAD – Biogas, greenwashing, the environment, biodiversity, the land, the LAND

LAND 08 – Paradisbakkevejen to Rokkestenen, 24.02.23

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LAND 08 Dawn felt rather mild with no hint of the rain that was forecast for later in the day. I headed east, down the hill and towards the sea. In a small copse by the roadside a small herd of fallow deer melted away at my approach.

Down in the open landscape again, I followed the road south, parallel to the coast. The sky was ever-darkening. I stopped to paint the distant skyline of Aarsdale and was overjoyed to hear my first skylark of the year break into song just above me. Two or three others quickly responded, and for a brief period I was utterly submerged in their mesmeric chorale.  As the first raindrops fell on my paper they suddenly stopped, and I was not to hear them again.

View from Sdr. Aarsdalevej

I packed up and walked on as the rain and wind intensified, stopping briefly to sketch the triangular gables of the farms stung out along between the fields and the coast.

View from Sdr. Aarsdalevej II

Turning into the wind I headed up towards the woods. I spent a long while trudging over muddy fields trying to find a path, but to no avail. Eventually I arrived at the Hell Hills, the less well-known and explored eastern cousin to the Paradise Hills. Here I wandered for a while, again struggling to find a decent trail. I arrived at a small stone structure, the site of one of Bornholm’s old ‘optical telegraph’ towers, which afforded me some shelter from the rain. I painted a sheet of paper and exposed it to the rain.

Rain painting I – increasing exposure time from left to right

I walked on. The badly maintained and waymarked paths, combined with my appalling sense of direction, resulted in many wet and muddy hours wandering the aptly named Hell Hills. I made more rain paintings but decided to concentrate on the GPS line recording my journey instead, meandering onwards in the mossy and sodden forest before eventually emerging into the more open and visitor-friendly Paradise Hills.

Rain painting II – increasing exposure time from left to right
View in the Hell Hills

By now the rain had ceased and with it my mood lifted. I walked along Kodal – a wonderfully picturesque rift valley with sides of mauve-grey granite bedecked in gold-green moss and burgundy heather.


Absolutely exhausted now I trudged on, around the perimeter of two small forest lakes, before arriving at my destination – ‘Rokkesten’, the Rocking Stone – a huge glacial erratic boulder perched on the bedrock. I tried to set it in motion but to no avail. Behind the clouds the sun set, and the day was done.


WEATHER REPORT – overcast, rain for much of the day. Temperature 3 degrees. Wind 8 m/s from the west. Hours of precipitation: 6 hours. Hours of sunshine: 0 hours.

STOPS with the BIVVY – 1


DAY LASTED – 10h and 20m


BIRDS SEEN and HEARD – 26 species: two new (skylark, whooper swan, running total = 51 species)

LESSONS LEARNED – My waterproof trousers get heavy when wet. I had to hold them up with one hand as I walked. Also, the path ‘Spor i landskabet’ on the map does not exist in reality.

IN MY HEAD – the song ‘Down so Long’ by the Doors: on repeat, the beat in time with my step.

LAND 07 – Ibsker Church to Paradisbakkevejen, 16.02.23

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LAND 07 I sat on a bench in the immaculately maintained graveyard, the white church in front of me almost completely obscured by the heavy fog. Behind me two men were already at work, repointing the outer stone wall. I finished my painting, packed up, and walked off into the landscape, and for a long while, I could still hear their tools tapping away through the whiteness.

Ibs Kirke

I walked on small roads and tracks between recently ploughed fields. The fog an oppressive blanket removing me from any sense of time and place.


Eventually I reached the edge of Paradisbakkerne – The Paradise Hills – a large area of plantations, mixed woodlands, and heathland that I will be meandering in and out of for the next three weeks. The whiteness hung in the trees and extinguished almost all sound.


I followed a path through the forest and into ‘Gåsemyrfredningen’, a large open heathland and a taste of how much of the island would have looked in the past, when the central part of Bornholm was a common area for grazing and heather collection – before it was closed off and planted with fir plantations. The fog created an ethereal dream-like landscape, with the twisted shapes of juniper trees fading into the mist, and the heavens melting imperceptibly into the still waters of the bog.


I walked onwards and followed a well-worn path back into the forest, past huge boulders, and alongside deep fern-clad dells. The Paradise Hills are scarred by a series of parallel rift valleys cut into the granite bedrock – some wide and rather smooth, others narrow with near vertical sides.


All day I wandered through the fog, past lakes, bogs, and through an ever-changing woodland – often wild and diverse, other times more orderly and homogenous. I arrived in the heathland again – visibility had improved a little by now, and I admired the purple-grey granite against the burgundy of the heath, the deep racing-green of the juniper, and the burnt ochre of the dead grass. I was glad to be away from the monotonous cultivated fieldscapes of the previous weeks.


Eventually I arrived at Midterpilt, and then Østerpilt – small triangular stone navigation markers built on exposed areas and used in days gone past to guide people across the moors, but now rather hidden in the woods. The fine mist left a delicate pattern on my painting. I walked on, through the forest and then back across the fields, and the day was over.



WEATHER REPORT – Thick fog, thinning to a fine mist in the afternoon. Temperature 3 degrees. Wind 4 – 6 m/s from the west. Hours of precipitation: 0 hours. Hours of sunshine: 0 hours.

STOPS with the BIVVY – 0


DAY LASTED – 9h and 44 m

PEOPLE TALKED TO – 1, (…also said ‘hi’ to a few walkers)

BIRDS SEEN and HEARD – 22 species: two new (coal tit, crossbill, running total = 49 species)

LESSONS LEARNED – how to take apart my stool in the easiest way – a minor, boring detail, but I’ll be doing it hundreds of times through the year…

IN MY HEAD – Mostly I was thinking about the passing of my father-in-law, peacefully on Sunday. A kind, warm, humble, and tolerant family man who will be sorely missed by many. I thought a lot about life and death. I thought about the role of the church in Denmark today  – as a site for ritual assembly, rather than for Christian worship.

LAND 06 – Lyrehøj to ibsker church – 10.02.23

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LAND 06 From my vantage point at the bend of the road I counted no less than seven hares together in one field – first resting, then energetically chasing each other across the stubble and disturbing the feeding rooks and wood pigeons. Not quite a sign of spring, but certainly a sign of late winter and longer days.

Dawn an hour or so earlier had started with the sunrise hidden behind the clouds, but now the sun was shining, and I was excited to see what the day would bring. I headed north and then east, firstly making some small sketches of interesting geometric shapes, then spending far too long trying to capture the tonal and chromatic relationships between the sky, the sea and the fields.

A well-mown dog walkers’ path took me to the Vasa stream, which I followed upstream for a while, soon arriving at the mighty ‘Great Oak’ of Vasa – in whose company I spent several devotional hours, marveling at the deeply rutted bark and expansive crooked limbs. Well over 300 years old, this is officially Bornholm’s thickest tree and well deserving of its title.

Feeling energised and positive, I headed south again, up into an expansive and gently undulating landscape, cloaked in a patchwork of ochres, umbers and greens and framed by the steely blue of the Baltic Sea. I stopped to sketch one of the many ‘høje’ – burial mounds – that were scattered across the landscape. This area had been the site of ‘Sorte Muld’ an important religious centre in the years 300 – 600 AD and is today an important archaeological location where thousands of tiny gold amulets have been discovered.

As I stood sketching, I became aware of a very distant high-pitched sound. My first thought was lapwings, but it was much too early in the year, and the sound was much more insistent and melodic. Perhaps it was the wind blowing through overhead cables – but again, far too melodious, and intricate. Perhaps it was the chanting of iron-age druids carried through time? Then suddenly it dawned on me – the noise I was hearing was the singing of the gibbons that lived in ‘Brændegaardshaven’ a nearby zoo/amusement park. The wind was blowing their incredible and mournful song across the valley right to where I was standing. It was unsettling and enormously incongruous to hear their calls carried across the freezing Baltic wind, so far from their steamy rainforest home in Southeast Asia. But it was also incredibly moving and beautiful.

I walked on. Down and closer to Svaneke again, where I was attracted by the jumbled skyline of sheds, silos, the windmill and farms.

Svaneke seen from Korshøje

For the last time, I doubled back and headed southwest again. Soon I arrived at Hallebrøndshøj passage grave. Long before Sorte Muld emerged as a power, this area had been settled, and some time around 5.500 years ago the local farming community had constructed this burial site. Incredibly I could crawl into the grave chamber where, on a bed of dry leaves and protected from the burgeoning winds, I sat and enjoyed a warm coffee and got to work.

From the inside looking out
From the outside looking in

A few hours later a fine mist descended, and the day was over. I trudged all the way back to where I had left the car as dusk fell, exhausted but full of extraordinary memories and experiences.


WEATHER REPORT – cloudy start, then some hazy sunshine, then cloudy in the afternoon. Temperature between 4 and 6 degrees. Wind 8 – 10 m/s from the southwest and northwest. Hours of precipitation: 0 hours. Hours of sunshine: 5 hours.

STOPS with the BIVVY – 0


DAY LASTED – 9h and 28 m

PEOPLE TALKED TO – 1 (while sitting in the passage grave, I heard voices – a man and his young son were visiting. They got quite a shock when they saw me inside. They were the only people I saw all day).

BIRDS SEEN and HEARD – 24 species: two new (grey heron and starling, running total = 47 species)


IN MY HEAD – I was thinking of how different LAND is from my KYST trip, in so many ways. I feel like I’m starting to get a feel for rural Bornholm – the fields, valleys, woods and farms – and the LAND project has completely taken over my life.

LAND 05 – Lyrsby Wood to Lyrehøj, 03.02.23

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LAND 05 Snow had fallen overnight, and I was ten minutes late for the start of the day. I headed west at daybreak, the sleeting snow together with the strong wind made any attempts at sketching almost impossible.

I walked across an open and gently undulating terrain, the snow and sleet settled in intersecting lines across the fields. Visibility was poor and all colour and contrast was obliterated by the stinging sleet.

By chance I stumbled across a wooden bus shelter with its back to the wind. I settled within, thankful for the cover. Here I waited for several long hours, as the snow turned to sleet and then driving rain. Quite suddenly the wind changed direction and the rain came in and soaked my gear – I had no choice but to pack up again and keep moving.

Corner of Myregårdsvej and Ølenevej, The first one…
The second one, after the sleet turned to rain

I walked onwards and turned into a farm track which took me past a small wood where I sheltered under my ‘tarp’ and cooked up some warm food. This was definitely off the beaten track and I felt far removed from everything. Eventually, the rain stopped and I packed up and walked onwards through the thick muddy slush.

With the clearer weather, deep browns, ochres and greens flooded back into the landscape. I walked along another small track past some old farms and through an old wood where some antique farm implements lay forgotten on the leafy mulch. Continuing past a wonderful old ash tree I crossed the Vasa stream in full spate and headed north again.

The edge of a field had been left uncultivated and suddenly there were yellowhammers, finches and sparrows feeding on the deadheads of thistles and other wildflowers. Overhead a white-tailed sea eagle soared majestically past and lifted my mood immeasurably. A chance conversation with an artist friend whose house I passed confirmed my faith in nature’s ability to rebound from our worst efforts to mess it up. I made some more quick sketches.

View of Ibsker from Lindholmsvej

The day regrettably not to end on a high – the rain returned and I trudged damp and exhausted on to my destination as the light faded.


WEATHER REPORT – Snow, sleet and rain clearing for a few hours in the afternoon. Temperature between 1 and 4 degrees. Wind 8 m/s from the southwest and northwest. Hours of precipitation:  6 hours. Hours of sunshine: 0 hours.

STOPS with the BIVVY – 1


DAY LASTED – 8h and 40 m


BIRDS SEEN and HEARD – 24 species: two new (robin, white-tailed sea eagle, running total = 45 species)

LESSONS LEARNED – Put your pencil THEN your sketchbook in your pocket, not the other way round.

IN MY HEAD – how fast trees grow and provide cover


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FK 01 was made close to Vestermarie on the 10th of January when we had icy weather. Water collected on waterlogged fields had frozen to ice, which I scratched to create a shape.

‘Fire Kanter’ (’Four Edges/Sides’) is the title of a year-long self-funded art project I will be working on throughout 2021. Now that the KYST project and all its various outcomes (book, exhibition, etc) have been delivered and digested, I feel I am ready and willing to embark on another structured and time-based project.

I wanted to build on some of the themes of the KYST project, but also do something completely different. I love the structure of a year-long project and the rhythm and depth that such an undertaking entails, but I also want to change the format and build on some of the anamorphic and land art sculptures and installations I’ve been working on over many years.

‘Fire Kanter’ is a series of anamorphic squares – site-specific interventions – created and photographed in the Bornholmian landscape. I will walk around in the landscape, in the forest, on a field, by the beach. I will choose a point in space and from that point, I will create the illusion of a square within the landscape by moving, replacing and altering things I find and collect in the landscape. I will be engaging with the environment in an explorative and tactile way and getting my hands dirty.

The anamorphic nature of the project means that the area I will be engaging with is by no means square but will only appear so from the specific point from where I record the image. The challenge will be to create this illusion using organic materials within a dynamic space. Wind, air temperature and gradient will dictate the nature of the artwork, as will the plastic nature of the resources that I will be working with. I have hundreds of ideas as I write this (mid-January) but time will tell which of these will be successfully realised.

FK 01

I will be creating a minimum of one ‘firkant’ a month throughout 2021. Probably and hopefully I will be creating many more. Whilst I am not specifying when and where the firkanter will be made, my aim is to create interventions that reflect the turning of the wheel of time as well as the geographical and natural diversity of Bornholm. I will be looking at creating these artworks in a variety of different locations on Bornholm, some well-known, others much less so. Some may only last for hours or days, others a bit longer, but all will eventually be reclaimed by time and the landscape.

In order to create these squares, I will try to use as few tools as possible – just my camera and tripod if possible. I will document the creation of the firkant, its completed form and possibly the process of it dissolving back into the landscape. These images I will share throughout the year on my social media platforms (Instagram, Facebook and my website blog). Time permitting, I will write on my blog about the creation of these works. Possibly I will be making plein air timescape/slicer paintings of the squares. Depending on how all this goes, I will investigate creating a book and/or exhibition about the project in 2022, and I would like to include some of the ideas, sketches and thought processes. But maybe not – this is a self-created and self-funded project, an essentially selfish undertaking that may disappear without trace.

FK 01 – and three days after…

‘Fire Kanter’ is (another) way for me to connect deeply with the Bornholm landscape. By being in the landscape and moving things around, I cannot help but engage with it in a deep and meaningful way. I will be literally getting to grips with my environment. The raw materials of the landscape will be the tools with which I create my art. The artwork will be situated within that which it represents.

Earthbound III

It seems like an age ago now, but in September of 2020, I was part of the third Earthbound exhibition held at Gudhjem Museum. This post is just a short description of the process involved in preparing and delivering the work I produced for the exhibition – much too late of course, but hopefully this will spur me on to be a more regular blogger throughout 2021…

Earthbound is a very loose collection of five Bornholm-based artists, all of whom take direct or indirect inspiration from Bornholm’s natural environment. Earthbound III would be myself, together with the incredible pots of ceramic artist Eva Brandt, the delicate and shimmering watercolours and prints by Lone Schiøtz, atmospheric oil paintings by Barbara Sørensen and the tactile organic wooden vessels by wood turner Hans Henning Pedersen. We had exhibited together two times before, both at Gudhjem Museum, so this was to be the third act. The previous exhibitions had been very well received, and I was looking forward very much to joining forces with the other ‘Bounders’ and putting my work up on the walls of what I think is Bornholm’s best gallery space.

Right from the start I decided I would produce some large watercolours, larger than I had ever tried before. I was interested in seeing if I could make some gigantic plein air ‘timescape’ paintings, where I would follow the movement of the shadows over the landscape, through the course of a day.

I started off buying a huge roll of Saunders Waterford paper, and cutting off slices. To stretch and prepare the paper, I took it to Bjergebakke Quarry, about a ten minute cycle ride from where I live, were I submerged the paper and let it dry between huge sheets of hardboard. All this happened in August during a very hot period, which meant the paper dried too quickly and buckled a little anyway. I was OK with that.

The first two paintings I completed in Bjergbakke Quarry itself. It is an old granite quarry, very small and local in character, that has been out of use since the 70s. Now it is used for grazing livestock and the owners have kindly built a diving platform, so people can jump into the deep quarry lake. Inside the bowl of the quarry, industrial machinery slowly rusts into the soil. It is an evocative place, a quiet arena cut off from its surroundings, where nature is slowly taking back territory previously lost to human activity.

Next I went to Stevns Klint, a rocky outcrop in the northern end of Salene Bugt just south of Helligdomsklipperne. Here the natural granite rock face is completely different in character. As I had in Bolsterbjerg, I started by dividing the paper into 3 x 5 squares. Then I made a very simple pencil sketch of the whole area I would focus on, making notes and sketches. Returning the next day just after midday, I started in the middle of the painting and worked by way, square by square as time went, finishing in the bottom right square, at about 10 pm. The next morning at 5 am I returned and continued, starting from the top left square, until I reached there where I had begun the day before.

The third venue was Stammershalle, another rocky outcrop further north. Here the prominotory is riddled with iron and bronze age menhir and dolmen and I’ve always felt as though there is a special energy or atmosphere in the area. This time I worked horizontally from left to right. Again, it was an incredible experience to spend so much time outside in one place just looking and looking, and looking…

The fourth place I chose was ‘Peder Olsens Havn’ just south of Hasle on the other eastern side of the island. Here sheltering under a low sandstone cliff I was again completely cut off from everything and anyone and had only the gulls for company. At the end of the first day it started to rain and I struggled to keep the huge painting dry under my shelter. The next morning was the most incredible magical sunrise. Whilst I worked horizontally again, I subdivided the painting according to the Golden Mean. This meant that I ‘changed’ more quickly during those parts of the day that the light changed more quickly (the sunrise and the sunset).

Himmel, hav og fugle gennem dagen. Peder Olsens Havn, Bornholm

The final three paintings were sky studies, where I subdivided the sky into stripes or squares, and followed it through the day. In the painting below, I started in the top left and work down, then started up on the next column, and so on…

Himmel gennem dagen III. Vestermarie, Bornholm

I used pretty much all of August and a bit of September on the paintings. We had a week to install the exhibition, and it went very smoothly, just as it had done the previous times. We the artists worked well together and were ably supported by the passionate and knowledgable volunteers of Gudhjem Museum. Here a photo taken during installation.

I was surprised and a tiny bit disappointed when I saw how my huge paintings shrunk once within the gallery, but overall I was very pleased with the exhibition and my large watercolours. Unfortunately due to Covid there was no PV, but now I just thank the lucky stars that we were able to open at all. Such a fantastic place to exhibit, and in the company of such talented artists. I think our stuff worked really well together – Earthbound IV? Who knows, watch this space…

Birdwatch Artist of the Year, 2019!

At this year’s Natural Eye exhibition at the Mall Galleries, London, I was shocked and chuffed in equal measures to receive the Birdwatch Artist of the Year Award. In their own words ‘This prestigious award, held in association with the Society of Wildlife Artists and Swarovski Optik, is given to the artist whose work s considered to be the most outstanding’. My painting of tufted ducks in Rønne harbour was the one they chose, which made me especially happy as is was painted on Bornholm, and shows a scene that many local people will be familiar with (they huddle in the harbour every winter, just by the ferry).

Tufted Ducks on Icy Water, Rønne (sold)

I painted it in January, just after the actual KYST project finished. It was a freezing afternoon, but the setting sun cast a wonderful orange glow on the ducks. The sub-zero temperature meant that I couldn’t really control my fingers, resulting n broadquick brush strokes, and froze the washes of watercolor on to the paper, creating wonderful tendrils and patterns. I absolutely didn’t think ‘my God, its a Goddam masterpiece’ when I finished it, but it has grown on me and I was happy to submit it to the exhibition. I had no idea it would be chosen as the winning painting!

It means so much to me to receive this award, and has been given to me at a very important juncture in my professional life – just as the KYST project, its book and exhibitions, has come to a close, and lots of exciting things are beckoning on the horizon. I look forward to developing my practice and hopefully, one day I’ll feel as though I actually deserve to stand alongside previous and future winners.