The Path Home, Grindelwald
30×20cm - oil on linen mounted to aluminium panel
Grindelwald greeted us with rain - days of it. We hadn’t expected how much the weather patterns had changed. Each afternoon, clouds rolled in thick with moisture, and the sky would open up. It almost knocked the wind out of our sails.
So we stayed in. Played cards. Listened to music. Waited.
Then, about an hour before sunset one evening, the rain stopped. The sky cracked open just enough. Richie and I looked at each other - and ran. We grabbed our gear and sprinted fifteen minutes through the village to find a spot.
This was it.
A quiet path. A cabin kissed by dusk light. Everything wet, still, and shimmering.
A moment of grace after the storm - understated, but rich with feeling.
30×20cm - oil on linen mounted to aluminium panel
Grindelwald greeted us with rain - days of it. We hadn’t expected how much the weather patterns had changed. Each afternoon, clouds rolled in thick with moisture, and the sky would open up. It almost knocked the wind out of our sails.
So we stayed in. Played cards. Listened to music. Waited.
Then, about an hour before sunset one evening, the rain stopped. The sky cracked open just enough. Richie and I looked at each other - and ran. We grabbed our gear and sprinted fifteen minutes through the village to find a spot.
This was it.
A quiet path. A cabin kissed by dusk light. Everything wet, still, and shimmering.
A moment of grace after the storm - understated, but rich with feeling.
30×20cm - oil on linen mounted to aluminium panel
Grindelwald greeted us with rain - days of it. We hadn’t expected how much the weather patterns had changed. Each afternoon, clouds rolled in thick with moisture, and the sky would open up. It almost knocked the wind out of our sails.
So we stayed in. Played cards. Listened to music. Waited.
Then, about an hour before sunset one evening, the rain stopped. The sky cracked open just enough. Richie and I looked at each other - and ran. We grabbed our gear and sprinted fifteen minutes through the village to find a spot.
This was it.
A quiet path. A cabin kissed by dusk light. Everything wet, still, and shimmering.
A moment of grace after the storm - understated, but rich with feeling.