The coast has always stayed with me through colour.
Not as a single view, but as layers: pale sky, distant land, dark water, wet earth, sea grass, and sudden flashes of colour along the horizon. The landscape changes constantly, yet something in its structure remains familiar. A line divides one space from another. Light moves across the surface. Colour gathers, recedes, and returns.
This new GeoHorizon release grew from that feeling.
The collection brings together two large 36 × 36-inch paintings and seven smaller 16 × 16-inch works on wood panel. Although each painting developed individually, they began to speak to one another through repeated bands of colour, open space, translucent layers, and drips.
Green Current is the brighter and more expansive of the two large works. A pale blue sky opens above narrow passages of rust, deep green, and green-gold. Below, turquoise shifts into darker water-like colour, carrying drips and traces of movement through the lower half of the painting.
There is something both grounded and fluid in it. The horizontal bands suggest land, shoreline, or fields seen at a distance, while the lower section feels less fixed—like water, growth, or colour continuing beneath the surface.
Mélodie Verte holds a quieter, deeper atmosphere. Its pale olive-green upper field is softened by translucent veils and faint vertical marks. Beneath it, a narrow red horizon gives way to a rich burgundy ground filled with long drips.
The painting has a slower rhythm. The colours feel earthy and intimate, yet the pale upper space keeps it open. Its dark oak frame gives the work an added sense of depth and brings out the warmth of the burgundy and red.
The seven smaller paintings extend the conversation between these two larger works.
Tideline, Sandbar, and Horizon Fire carry the brighter coastal notes—pale colour, open horizons, mineral warmth, and flashes of gold or orange. Deep Water moves toward richer greens and blues, becoming a bridge between the luminous and darker sides of the collection.
Evening Rose, Violet Shore, and Winter Coast turn toward duskier colour. Rose, violet, burgundy, blue, and muted winter tones create a more atmospheric shift without leaving the landscape behind.
The smaller works are not studies of the large paintings. Each is a complete painting with its own balance, mood, and horizon. Together, however, they create a changing sequence: daylight moving toward evening, water becoming land, warmth meeting cooler colour.
Drips appear throughout the collection, sometimes clearly and sometimes almost hidden beneath the surface. They remain an important part of my visual language. They suggest roots, beginnings, growth, and the unseen structures that connect us to place.
I often think of painting as singing with colour. In these works, some colours arrive like clear notes, while others remain suspended beneath veils and layers. The horizons hold them together.
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GeoHorizon — Coastal Colour is a collection about that meeting place—between land and water, distance and memory, stillness and movement. The paintings do not describe one particular coastline. Instead, they hold the feeling of coastal space: room to breathe, shifting light, and colour stretching toward the horizon.