This piece began not with a brushstroke, but with a moment—standing still, as the sun dipped behind the cliffs of Darwin’s coastline. It was my husband who handed me the colours, his palette chosen not from theory, but from memory: the scorched reds of the land, the deep blues of the Arafura Sea, and the way they melt into each other at dusk.
 
Painted over a canvas once left behind, this work was recovered, reborn—just like the stories etched into the cliffs and tide lines of the Northern Territory. Each texture speaks of heat and wind, of coastlines shaped by time and salt. It’s where the wildness of the land meets the patience of the sea.
 
North of Red Horizon is more than a place. It’s the feeling of standing on the edge of something vast—something sacred and untamed. It’s a love letter to the North, and to the man who saw it in me before I even touched the canvas.
 
There’s a quiet defiance in this piece—an energy that’s both fierce and grounded. The colours don’t blend softly; they collide and settle, mimicking the Top End’s contrast of climate, terrain, and temperament. This is a land that holds stories in its soil, and a sea that carries them further than the eye can follow.
 
This artwork is for those who know the power of place. For those drawn to the edge of things—where beauty isn’t polished, but honest. Where the land ends, and something deeper begins.