Learning the shape of the words and the shape of the fox, so each is drawn from the other, is a wild and a beautiful challenge. Jackie says, "‘Red Fox’ by Robert Macfarlane demands red paint for her bright pelt.
Rather than trying to see the fox full and square, it was of course to be about the ways these enigmatic creatures slip in and out of our lives, glimpsed and sensed at the edges of sight and hearing: 'The shadow that slips through a hole in the hedge.'" I saw the blur of a brush, a pair of glowing green eyes, my heart raced – and there was the spell. And then, while I was cycling late one night back down the street near my suburban house, a vixen hurtled across the road in front of me, passing a yard in front of my whirring wheels before vanishing into a neighbour’s garden. That felt like the right habitat in which to conjure up the fox. Jackie Morris sent me a notebook with her paintings of foxes on its cover and pages. "For several weeks, she wouldn’t break cover, wouldn’t show herself.
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