Acid Sunrise

Acid Sunset - 760x610x45mm
Mixed media on canvas.

Acid Sunset — Artist Summary

I remember the evening this came from.

The light had gone strange — not soft, not golden, but chemical. Like the sky had been tampered with. Colours didn’t fade… they bled into each other, thick and unreal, like the world was slipping out of its usual skin.

I wasn’t trying to paint anything that day.
Just chasing a feeling I couldn’t quite name.

There was something familiar in it — like a half-remembered place from childhood. The kind of memory that isn’t visual so much as it is felt. Heat in the air. Salt. Silence stretching out wider than it should. And those crude, almost naive marks — the little palms, the lines — they came through like signals from that younger part of me. Before refinement. Before knowing what anything was supposed to look like.

But there was another layer moving underneath.

A distortion.
A quiet unraveling.

The colours started pushing into each other in ways that felt slightly wrong… slightly too alive. Like the sunset wasn’t ending — it was expanding. Like something had cracked open behind it and was leaking through.

That’s where the energy lives for me in this piece — the trickster at the edge of perception. The shapeshifter that turns beauty into something uncertain. Something that asks you to look twice… and then doubt what you saw the first time.

Acid Sunset became less about the landscape,
and more about that threshold—

where memory softens into dream,
where colour becomes emotion,
and where the world, just for a moment,
forgets how to hold its form.

It’s not a place I can return to exactly.
But it left a residue.

And this… is what remained.