Louis Buvelot is painting. It’s a quarter past
midday and you wouldn’t know out here unless
you looked at the sun but Louis doesn’t look
at the sun because he’s squinting at the trees.
A mammoth gust of wind blows a twig onto the
canvas. It lodges itself in a glob of oil paint. Louis
picks out the twig with his thumb and forefinger.
It messes up a branch of his painted eucalypt.
There’s something else stuck to the grass in the
foreground. It looks like a tooth; human or
animal, Louis doesn’t know. He picks it out but
once he’s done that he sees another appear.
And another. Louis goes on picking out teeth
until finally he pulls a whole skull out of his
canvas. He tosses it away and puts the finishing
touches on the landscape. Calls it The Clearing.
1 August 2017