There’s a brief window at the end of the day when everything shifts—when the light softens and deepens, and the ocean turns to molten gold. I’ve spent so many evenings in the water during that time, watching the sun drop behind the hills, feeling the entire coastline slow down. It’s one of those rare moments when you’re fully present, suspended between the fading day and the quiet of night.
Golden Hour was inspired by those last moments in the water, when the sun is low and the waves seem to glow from within. I’ve always loved the way the hills frame the view from the lineup, how they stretch out in soft layers, reminding you of just how expansive and alive this place is. Painting this scene was my way of holding onto that feeling—of floating, watching, breathing, and being part of something far bigger than yourself.
There’s a kind of reverence in this hour. The world feels both still and in motion, lit from within. No photograph or brush can ever truly capture it, but painting allows me to stay with it a little longer. In that space between earth and sky, between wave and horizon, I find a deep sense of connection—to nature, to memory, and to whatever it is that keeps calling me back to the sea.