It was the moss that first caught my eye in the inspiration photograph. Its bright, almost vibrant yellow-green color covered the trunk and roots with a lively glow. Its powerful and poetic presence prompted me to choose this image as a reference for my painting. Curiously, it was only when I started painting that I really saw what was in front of me: this cedar tree was growing on a rocky slope, where nothing else seemed to want to grow. Suddenly, everything took on a new meaning.

Near the Duval River in Gaspésie, this cedar grew in an unusual place. Its roots, tenacious and patient, managed to squeeze between the stones, bypass obstacles, and anchor themselves in the improbable. It did not grow despite the difficulty, but through it. Each stone forged its posture, each slope strengthened its will.

The moss, which first attracted me with its beauty, turned out to be much more than a simple ornament. In my painting, it became a kind of symbolic garment—an adornment offered by time, reminding us that even in the heart of stones, life knows how to weave its tenderness. Gently resting on the trunk and roots, it protects the cedar, retains moisture, and softens the harshness of the climate. Its discreet presence bears witness to the passage of time, for moss only grows where life persists. It seems to salute the quiet strength of the tree, as if nature, grateful for its resilience, had wanted to crown it with green velvet.

Resilience is an ode to this quiet strength. To life that persists, adapts, and takes root despite everything. To those beings, plant or human, who find their way in adversity. This cedar tree, now magnificent and bathed in light, reminds us that it is possible to grow even where everything seems impossible, and that the most difficult paths sometimes lead to the greatest successes.

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*I created this painting for Héritage Saint-Bernard, on the occasion of their benefit evening for nature.