Sharing a small work with a big family story. During the lockdowns of 2020, my youngest granddaughter looked at this piece and immediately named it Fire Mountain. She later claimed it. Some things never make it to the market, and that’s exactly why they matter. I painted Fire Mountain during the long, suspended days of the Covid lockdown. It was a period when the studio became both refuge and release, and my knives were the only tools that matched the intensity of that moment. The colours came in hot, molten, almost geological. I wasn’t aiming for realism; I was trying to capture a landscape that felt as emotionally volatile as the world outside. My granddaughter wandered into the studio, took one look, and simply said: “Fire Mountain.” The title stuck, and so did her claim on the painting. She saw something in it that was entirely her own, and that private spark became part of the work’s story. Like many of my miniatures, this piece speaks to how memory shapes imagination. It sits quietly in the background of my practice, reminding me that art often finds its true home in unexpected ways.

Titre : La Montagne de Feu

Description ; Huile sur Masonite 11 po x 4 po

Prix : En Collection privée

En collection privée