Camilla Engström’s work really feel like a return—a quiet give up to the rhythms of nature. Her dreamlike landscapes don’t merely depict the land; they embody its motion, its heat, its respiratory stillness. Like Mary Oliver’s poetry, Engström’s work suggests a deep attunement to nature, the place colour, mild, and type merge into one thing each intimate and expansive.
Impressed by the landscapes surrounding Los Angeles—the rolling hills, the desert’s quiet vastness, the shifting glow of the Pacific—her work transforms acquainted terrain into one thing deeply felt relatively than exactly rendered. The golden hues of nightfall, the mushy blue of early morning mild, and the earthy heat of canyon trails seep into her compositions. Timber sway in quiet rhythm, rivers ripple like whispered reflections, and mountains pulse with an inside glow, as if absorbing and radiating the solar’s ultimate mild.
Alongside her work, Engström might be presenting a bunch of ceramic terracotta vessels. These sculptural types, rooted in historical traditions, deliver a tactile presence to her exploration of nature. Earthy and natural, they echo the landscapes she paints—vessels that appear formed by wind, solar, and time itself. Their hand-formed surfaces and heat, earthen tones floor her work in one thing bodily, connecting the ephemeral great thing about her work to the tangible weight of clay.
Her brushwork is instinctive, her colours unconfined, mirroring the fluidity of nature itself. The land in her work doesn’t sit nonetheless; it strikes, breathes, and hums with quiet vitality. Like Oliver’s verse, Engström’s work is an invite—to not escape, however to pause, to soak up, to really feel the world round us extra deeply.
In her work and ceramics, Los Angeles is not only a metropolis however a threshold to the vastness past. The desert, the ocean, the mountains—they’re all a part of her wondrous place, ready to welcome us again.
