The fox
We live in a beautiful place. In a small corner of the Zselic, not far from the surrounding villages, yet it's like stepping into another world. This is our personal Rivendell. I would say how lucky we are, but the truth is that we have been looking for it for a very, very long time. And when we found it, we knew immediately that WE HAD FOUND IT. For those of us who are passionate about nature, it really is a treasure.
A természet közelsége pedig folytonos, élő kapcsolatot jelent. A növényekkel és az állatokkal. Például a rókákkal. Ez a történet is egy rókáról szól. Vagy kettőről. Előre szólok: ne várj hollywoodi csattanót vagy Agatha Christie-szerű fordulatot a végén. It's just an experience. It had such an impact on me that I wanted to share it.
The story started years ago. Józsi was away for a long time for an event. So no car rush, no hustle and bustle, just me painting at home, in a kind of a transparent shell. It was springtime, nature was coming to life and unfurling its colours and scents.
One day I noticed a young fox playing in the meadow, hunting grasshoppers and jumping happily. All this was happening so close to the large glass door opening onto the terrace of our house that I could observe it perfectly. The next day it came back, and then again and again, always at the same time. Sometimes he would jump up onto the edge of the wooden barrel we had put under the gutter to catch the rainwater and drink from it. Other times he would come quite close to the terrace.
It was an exhilarating and touching experience that stayed with me for a whole month. Then Józsi came home, and with him the bustle returned to the house, so the fox moved away.
The story continued last year, one night in December. I was working in my workshop. This is not unusual, especially before Christmas. Jewellery making is an immersive activity, requiring little movement and a lot of concentration. The house was accordingly quiet. It was also dark except for a few lights.
As I sat there working, I suddenly heard a noise from the window. I looked up and saw it. It was a fox. He jumped up into the window. That in itself was particularly impressive. Why would a fox jump up into the only window with light in the middle of the night? What could it be looking for, what could it be hoping for?
Then, in January, a friend of mine, with whom I shared my story, drew my attention to an experiential painting session, where, God forbid, the fox was the theme. Of course I signed up. There were eight of us in the room, at least until we started painting. Because then the outside world ceased to exist. It was just me, the brush, the canvas and the fox. I put all my feelings and experiences into this painting.
