Sante: Honoring the Process of Living

Sante (36"x48")

The canvas lay before me, vast and unyielding, much like the expanse of a new year or a significant turning point in life. When I began this piece, which I've come to call 'Sante,' I wasn't thinking of grand declarations, but rather of the quiet, persistent pulse of existence. The title 'Sante' itself is a personal whisper, a soft benediction for wellbeing, for the vibrant health of the spirit, and a silent toast to the journey, no matter how winding. It’s a word that echoes in my mind, a wish for strength in every line I lay down.

I found myself drawn to the starkness of white, a colour I rarely see as empty, but rather as full of potential, a space where anything can begin. I worked on this surface, layering and scraping, letting the texture build up, each ridge and valley a record of a breath, a moment of hesitation, or a surge of resolve. It felt like uncovering layers of memory, finding something new beneath the familiar.

Then came that bold, sweeping arc of ochre. When I painted it, my brush moved with a sudden, almost urgent energy. It wasn't a planned gesture, but a release, a visceral expression of a feeling—perhaps a deep, guttural laugh, or a sigh of relief, or the curve of an embrace. It carries the warmth of the earth, the feeling of something grounding and vital. I felt a surge of raw life force as I pulled that thick, textured pigment across the canvas, imagining it as a shield, a backbone, or a sun-drenched path.

The blues, scattered and almost ethereal, were moments of introspection. I placed them gently, letting them seep into the white, a cool counterpoint to the warmth, like distant memories or the quiet comfort of a clear sky. They felt like echoes, soft whispers that emerge and recede.

And then the black. The sharp, decisive forms felt like anchors in the drifting expanse. That prominent black star in the upper right, I remember drawing it with a feeling of aspiration, a point to navigate by, or perhaps a sudden, piercing insight. Other black shapes, with their jagged edges, are the interruptions, the moments of stark reality or unexpected turns that shape our path. They ground the ethereal, giving weight and shadow to the light.

The delicate lines, the almost calligraphic scribbles that thread through the white space, they are my thoughts made visible. The small numbers, like fragments of a forgotten calendar, speak to the passage of time, the days marked and unmarked, the quiet unfolding of a life. The dotted trail, leading nowhere and everywhere, is the meandering path of thought, a search, a quiet contemplation. And those tiny red dots, they are like little moments of sudden awareness, quick flashes of joy or tiny points of focus that catch the eye.

Creating 'Sante' was not about perfecting an image, but about honouring the process of living—the scrapes, the triumphs, the quiet moments of reflection, and the bold, unhesitating strokes we make. It’s a testament to the messy, beautiful, and utterly human experience of existing, and a quiet wish for good health in every sense of the word.