Drop 003
This summer I drove from Amsterdam to the Atlantic coast of France and painted what stayed with me.
A surfer in Crocs. A flamingo float in the wrong sea.
A girl who caught something and wants to know if you did too.
Three original paintings. Each one framed and ready to hang.
Meet the three paintings ↓WET Collection · Drop 003
This summer, I turned an Airbnb near the Atlantic into a two-week art residence. The plan was simple: surf, paint and come home with three finished works. That was the plan.
Amsterdam → France
I work in an office and paint after hours in my basement. For two weeks, I wanted to know what would happen if painting became the day job. We packed three blank canvases, art supplies, surf stuff, two kids and far too many expectations. Then we drove south.
Biscarrosse
For a moment, it worked. Mornings at the beach, observing this new world. Evenings drafting paintings in the garden with a glass of red wine and the terribly loud cicadas. This was the art residence I had imagined.
Somewhere around 50°C
Then the heat arrived. Every insect in southwest France found me. I got sick. The kids were bored. Painting became something I squeezed between family life, the heat and finding enough energy to go to the beach. I came to France to make three paintings. I finished one.
The drive home
From the car, we watched smoke rise behind us. The area we had just left was burning. The colors, the light and the people I had been collecting without thinking suddenly belonged to a moment disappearing in the rear-view mirror.
Amsterdam
Two canvases came home untouched. But they weren’t empty anymore. They carried the Atlantic light, the pine forests around Biscarrosse and the people who looked completely themselves when nobody was watching.
After office hours
The holiday ended. I went back to the office, then into the basement every evening to paint—tired, but still full of France. The art residence wasn’t over. It had just moved back to Amsterdam.
WET Collection · Drop 003
One surfer who caught a wave at Biscarrosse. One man living the dream on a flamingo float in the Atlantic. One girl in the shallows of Arcachon who caught something—and wants to know if you did too.
One painting made in France. Two painted after work in Amsterdam. All three came from the same unfinished trip.
Office plankton by day. Basement studio by night. My paintings hang in homes across 10+ countries — in living rooms, man caves, nurseries, veterinary clinics and freshly renovated houses that needed something real on the walls. Not a poster. Something with a story behind it.
