La Côte d'Or

There are shorelines that are made of gold. Not only because of the sun, but because the light settles there like a precious metal, one that stays, that insists.

Above, a sky of warm ochre, dense, almost mineral. The matter is raw, velvety, it carries the heat of the south. Below, a band of turquoise and navy sea, run through with gold and white foam, as if the waves themselves were carrying the light. And at the very bottom, the orange beach, frank, solar.

Three bands, three temperatures. The sky that presses down, the sea that vibrates, the earth that welcomes. A landscape held by light.

Matter, structural plaster, acrylic, gold leaf. Wabi-sabi. The coast remembers the sun. So does the gold.