Despite the devastating fires of 2017, by 2021, I remained deeply convinced of nature's remarkable ability to recover time and again. Since 2015, I had been visiting Sintropical* projects, and I found that regenerative agroforestry was undoubtedly the way forward. This inspiration fueled my actions that year, including my painting.
Shortly after, we purchased our little quinta, and I set aside my paintbrush. All my energy was devoted to the land—seeding and planting bushes and trees. It was only thanks to my good friend Alexandra that I picked up my brush again this August and completed this work that I started back in 2021.
The process was challenging. In 2025, Portugal finds itself back at square one, much like it was in 2017 after the forest fires. I feel my conviction has dulled. Like this painting which I accidentally varnished with the wrong product just before submission. I felt a deep sense of shame and sadness, knowing it could not be undone. Yet, this is our reality. Each experience adds a layer to our lives, and every layer is subject to change, interconnected with the others. We have no choice but to move forward.
While my work still expresses a sense of connection, it now raises profound questions about our trajectory. Should we still bring children into this world when life on this planet is literally diminishing every second? Is the myth that nature brought us forth—whether from cabbage, stork, or any other natural phenomenon—still alive? Can we acknowledge that we are destroying our forests, our food, and our soil, and in doing so, we are ultimately bringing down ourselves?
Shortly after, we purchased our little quinta, and I set aside my paintbrush. All my energy was devoted to the land—seeding and planting bushes and trees. It was only thanks to my good friend Alexandra that I picked up my brush again this August and completed this work that I started back in 2021.
The process was challenging. In 2025, Portugal finds itself back at square one, much like it was in 2017 after the forest fires. I feel my conviction has dulled. Like this painting which I accidentally varnished with the wrong product just before submission. I felt a deep sense of shame and sadness, knowing it could not be undone. Yet, this is our reality. Each experience adds a layer to our lives, and every layer is subject to change, interconnected with the others. We have no choice but to move forward.
While my work still expresses a sense of connection, it now raises profound questions about our trajectory. Should we still bring children into this world when life on this planet is literally diminishing every second? Is the myth that nature brought us forth—whether from cabbage, stork, or any other natural phenomenon—still alive? Can we acknowledge that we are destroying our forests, our food, and our soil, and in doing so, we are ultimately bringing down ourselves?
*agendagotsch.com
In progress