This painting sits somewhere between observation and memory. Layers are built slowly, then disrupted, allowing forms to surface and recede rather than resolve. What might first read as landscape or reflection remains deliberately open, shifting as the eye moves across the surface.

The palette is restrained but complex, with greens, muted earths and softened light working against one another to create depth and movement. Marks overlap and blur, suggesting growth, water, foliage, or simply the passing of time. Nothing is fixed. The painting asks to be lived with rather than decoded.

At this scale, the work has a strong physical presence, yet it retains a sense of quietness. It holds space without dominating it, rewarding longer looking and changing subtly with light and distance. Like much of my recent work, it reflects an interest in nature not as a literal subject, but as something half remembered, half felt. An atmosphere rather than a place.