2026-03-12

BEHIND THE PAINTINGS: ABSTRACT IV – The Fluid Language of Colour, Memory and Intuition

Art has never been just a matter of form or colour for me. It is an inner language, a fluid system of signals, memories and intuitive gestures. Sometimes a painting begins with a clear idea, but more often it reveals itself only during the process—as if the work itself decides which direction it wants to take. ABSTRACT IV is exactly such a painting: a meeting between structure and surrender, between personal memory and spontaneous discovery.

A Foundation That Already Speaks
I began with a horizontal relief layer of texture paste. That underlayer immediately felt like a landscape—rough, layered, full of possibilities. In earlier abstract works I still relied on clear colour blocks, but here the canvas demanded something different. The texture pushed me to paint more loosely, to respond rather than plan. As if the surface was already whispering the direction it wanted me to follow.

From Light to Neon – An Inner Transition
My original plan was simple: a painting in pink, red and orange tones. But as soon as I started, intuition took over. The transition from a soft, pale base to bright neon shades of orange, red and pink felt like an emotional gradient—a shift from quiet to intensity. To ground that brightness, I added white and sand tones, a neutral base that doesn’t mute the colours but allows them to breathe.

The blue that entered later created a powerful complementary contrast with the neon palette, adding tension, clarity and unexpected depth.

A black border seemed logical at first, but quickly felt too heavy. Light blue brought air, but not balance. Only when I picked up the palette knife did the movement the painting needed finally emerge: vertical strokes shifting from light to bright, like trails of energy cutting through the canvas.

I also used crumpled aluminium foil—a technique that produced surprising patterns, unpredictable and almost organic. The vertical palette-knife strokes contrasted sharply with the horizontal structure underneath. Layer by layer, the painting revealed its own inner anatomy.

Aqua Blue – The Thread Between the Layers
Throughout the work I introduced aqua blue. Not as an accent, but as a connecting thread. The thin, irregular lines linking the blue patches reminded me of lymphatic pathways—organic, fragile, yet essential for cohesion. It felt as though the colours began communicating with each other, forming an internal network that held everything together.

Why These Colours? A Morning in Alkmaar Noord
The combination of bright blue and orange is rooted in a memory from my time at the fashion academy in Amsterdam. Every morning, on my way to Alkmaar Noord station, I watched the rising sun turn the sky bright blue while the streetlights still glowed orange. That clash of colours—opposite yet harmonious—etched itself deeply into my visual memory.

While painting ABSTRACT IV, that memory resurfaced, not as a literal scene but as a sensation. As the light base expanded, I began to see something else emerging—especially when I stepped back. Suddenly I was reminded of the final scene in Angels and Demons: the moment the bomb explodes high above St. Peter’s Square and the sky opens like a Renaissance painting by Michelangelo. Heavenly calm surrounded by dramatic, illuminated clouds—a cosmic spectacle where light and darkness amplify each other.

That theatrical feeling slipped into ABSTRACT IV. From the centre, a kind of primal force seemed to emerge, as if the universe itself was pushing life outward. Dramatic, perhaps—but framing the universe makes it more human.

That is why I chose the striped border: a visual passe-partout that doesn’t confine the painting but makes it graspable. A frame that brings the cosmic back to a scale we can hold.

The Final Layer – Reflection, Shine and Detail
To finish the work, I applied a layer of epoxy. This crystal-clear coating makes the colours even more vibrant, as if they begin to glow from within. The reflections change the painting from every angle; it catches light, bends it, transforms it. The work becomes dynamic—almost breathing.

The frame is white with a silver top edge. But the true secret lies inside: the inner back of the frame, where the painting rests, is painted in the same aqua blue as the stripes on the canvas. This makes the striped aqua/light blue border visually continue into the frame, which then transitions into white and silver. A detail that not everyone will notice—but that’s exactly why I love it. It’s a quiet reward for the attentive viewer.

Conclusion – A Frame for the Unsayable
In ABSTRACT IV, memory, intuition and experiment come together. It is a work not only about colour, but about movement, resonance and the moment a painting begins to reveal itself. The striped border frames the whole, but does not confine it. It is a window into an inner landscape that shifts every time you look.

Perhaps that is the essence of abstract art: it doesn’t ask to be understood, but to be experienced. It invites you to feel, to wander, to discover. And like memory itself, it reveals new layers—if you take the time to look.