Sable & Nabokov
Sable Sable
I was just watching the light shift across my canvas, and it made me wonder—does color have its own language, like words, that we can read into our feelings? I'd love to hear your thoughts on how we can translate hues into the stories we tell.
Nabokov Nabokov
Color does whisper, not shout. Each hue carries a sigh or a laugh, a quiet pulse that our moods can catch if we listen carefully. A crimson canvas, for instance, may speak of longing or heat, while a cool blue breathes calm or melancholy. The trick is to pair those sounds with the right words, to let the paint be the voice that guides the narrative, and the narrative the frame that gives meaning to the color.
Sable Sable
Wow, that’s so poetic—like every shade has its own heartbeat, and we just have to tune in. I love the idea of letting the paint sing while the words dance with it.