Kalenderblad herfst 1942 1941

This is "Kalenderblad herfst 1942" by J. Roozendaal, and it feels like it was made with a whole lot of patience and a very fine pen. Up close, the surface is a dense field of tiny marks, like a pointillist painting gone a bit wild. The colors are muted – mostly browns and reds – like leaves decaying on the forest floor. The texture is smooth, but the density of marks creates a kind of visual vibration, a sense of endless detail. I am drawn to the edges, which are more sparse, revealing how the overall effect has been built up through a process of accumulation. This type of mark-making reminds me of the visionary drawings of Hilma af Klint, particularly the way that repetitive, almost meditative gestures create a sense of something vast and infinite. But where Klint's work feels expansive and utopian, Roozendaal's feels more introspective, a bit melancholic. Ultimately, both artists remind us that art is not about fixed meanings, but about the ongoing exploration of feeling and form.