Hidden Horizons: A Journey in Layers and Discovery

Some paintings come together effortlessly, but Hidden Horizons was not one of them. It was a process—messy, unpredictable, and filled with moments of doubt and discovery. When I first started, I had no clear vision in mind. It shifted and evolved, changing direction multiple times before finally settling into what it is now.

This painting wasn’t created in a single burst of inspiration; it emerged, layer by layer, moment by moment, over months of intuitive work. At its core, Hidden Horizons is about the unknown—the paths we take without seeing the full journey ahead. It holds all the twists and turns, the missteps, the beautiful accidents that make something truly meaningful.

The Layers That Built Hidden Horizons

I worked on this piece for months, adding colour, covering sections, stripping them back, then rebuilding again. Every layer carries something underneath it, like memories stacking upon one another. Some elements from earlier versions are buried, but they’re still there, influencing what came next. It wasn’t an easy process, and there were moments I wanted to give up. But with every change, it started to take on a life of its own.

And it wasn’t just me who left a mark on this piece. My daughter placed tiny hearts within the layers, hidden pockets of love beneath the surface. Our family’s handprints, though invisible from the front, pressed through to the back, like echoes of our presence. My son, always seeking adventure, ran his favourite toy car through the wet paint, leaving behind playful trails. Even my husband got involved, helping shape some of the textures that built its depth. And somewhere, woven into the composition, our family name is embedded—an unseen signature of connection.

A Horizon That’s Yours to Find

What I love most about Hidden Horizons is that it invites you to see your own journey in it. Just like life, it’s layered with experiences—some visible, some hidden, all significant. The broad sweeps of colour and shifting forms ask you to find your own horizon within it. Maybe it sparks a sense of adventure. Maybe it feels like home. Maybe it reminds you of the things that shape us, even when we can’t see them clearly.

This painting taught me to let go, to embrace uncertainty, and to trust that the unseen is just as important as what’s visible.

So, what do you see when you look at Hidden Horizons?