Inspired by Albrecht Dürer (1471 – 1528) – Great piece of turf (1503) – Lead pencil / Watercolour – 8,26 x 6,30 inch

National Day of Mourning for the kingdom of wild grasses, the Queen of Ribworts died during the night. A long and painful illness obviously due to a new weed killer the municipality uses. The kingdom has suffered many losses during the last three months. The grass, the lawns flowers, the meadows, and even those from gardens maintained by human beings. They gathered spontaneously, at their own risk, in the garden of a couple that only shows on weekends. At least they won’t be disturbed, it’s Thursday.

The thistle, Master of the House for generations, speaks first and reminds each and everyone of the key role played by the deceased and the absolute need to vote for the successor as quickly as possible. He also wants everyone to know that he’s not at all interested in being elected. He is far too old to carry the impressive charge of leading the wild grasses kingdom. All at once, excitement comes up from the croud of relatives and friends, here for the ceremony. As unexpected as it was intriguing, the speech of the thistle had a certain impact. He adds that a vote by secret ballot will be planned the beginning of next week in the cow field, after the washhouse. They have just changed fields, so they won’t be so quick to return. Therefore, the place will be quiet and comfortable. The whisper of the crowd grows up to a collective “yes”. Let’s do it!

On election day, it’s raining cats and dogs. The grasses become stretchy and enter deeper and deeper into the Mother earth. Hard to move on these conditions. The elders won’t last the day, they would leave their freshness-fraud and rotten prematurely on their way back probably because of many long hours of waiting, roots exposed. The most courageous, the boldest, and the “slightly mad ones” fight for the front row. In a bit of a hurry to drop their sheet of paper in the urn, made for the occasion, pushing, insulting, trampling. Some won’t survive, others will show their dark side.

At the end of the day, the thistle is exhausted but reassured. A name really stoud out, Madam Dandelion!