It always begins with a feeling. Not a theory, not a rule—just the faint trace of a hue that lingers in the back of (NØ)’s mind like the scent of a place she never has been, but somehow remember. Finding the right palette is not about matching tones—it’s about resonance. How does a colour feel when it sits next to another? What kind of silence does it create? What kind of story does it tell?
In her notebook, the pages become fields of quiet experimentation. Tiny swatches bloom across the margins—whispers of ochre, the melancholy of deep green, a gentle insistence of burnt sienna. (NØ)’s testing, dilute, layer, let some pigments run freely, others stay stubborn in their neat boxes. All of them speak differently. Some whisper; some shout.
This summer, (NØ) found herself drawn to dusky pinks and soft mosses. The palette unfolded slowly, like petals opening under a clouded sun. It was not love at first sight. It took time. Glances. Adjustments. Rethinking. Returning. Letting go.
Soon, those quiet combinations made their way into her sketchbook—traces of petals, shadows of wild plants, soft echoes of places she passed through without speaking. The paintings became small records of this chromatic search, each brushstroke part of a deeper conversation with light, memory, and intuition.
(NØ) will be sharing glimpses of this journey: pages from her notebook, the palette that finally felt right, and fragments from the paintings born of it all.
Because sometimes, colour isn’t just what you see—it’s what you listen for.
