Threshold

There is a moment at the edge of something larger, a doorway, a shoreline, the last minute before a room fills, when everything goes quiet and you simply stand there. Threshold stays in that moment.

The six works are fields of colour with very little in them: black, warm bronze, a seam of cream light, and once in a while an ember red, used sparingly, like a coal that has not gone out. The edges are soft. Nothing is described. What remains is tone, light and the space between them.

These are images to stand in front of rather than read. At A4 they are intimate, close enough that the gradations reward a second and third look, and quiet enough to sit in a room without asking for its attention.

The series opens with Threshold, the pause before entering, and closes with The Last Gold, a light leaving gently.