Rosehip

I think of this small set of works as a contemplation in 10... The pruning of the rosehips (by my daughter Eva) had in fact begun in the morning , but was returned to in the late afternoon 'sans les petit garçons' and winter sunlight . Attempts at straightening the images, seemed to work against the mood of this mysterious, and strangely quiet 'up and down' world of child's play - that I had become privy too.