Measuring thirty by forty by one centimeter, the series hangs in grids on the battered old wall of her studio in Amsterdam. The various layers of peeling paint serve as the perfect background for the work. While the photographs are soft and transparent, the paintings have a tannic and impenetrable quality: an uncompromising opacity with the color pink in all its gradations: soft and bright, welcoming and unyielding.

In the Mountains series, the background is pink, the contours invariably in indigo, overlaid with bold, tempera strokes that are applied to the canvas in firm brush strokes. For the Algae series, however, she uses thicker paint, which she allows to flow with water. The edges of the canvas reveal the color's composition of blue, green, and earth tones.

Translating the photographic image into painting is the next step in her exploration of merging with nature. The medium offers more possibilities to interpret the underlying matter beyond phenomenology—and the pitfalls of the aesthetic. She plays with the transparency of paint, its dripping or impasto application, continuously layering to indicate the underlying, as we also see in the painters who inspire her, from Robert Zandvliet and Pat Steir to Rothko. All are familiar with the same paradox: abstraction simultaneously appears to yield an even greater concealment, like an infinitely abstracted Droste effect, enhancing the mystery rather than revealing it.

Even more than its unintended end result, it is the act of painting itself that reconnects her with the initial experience of the place and completes the circle: painting as trailing periwinkles, the tides of the sea: the ultimate erasure of memory. I am the periwinkle.
Je suis l’embrouillement.