Part of a collection of works in different colourways, each an abstract self-portrait, each a love letter to the girl who didn't need a reason to pick up something beautiful. This one is gentle, soft pinks, warm sand tones and whispers of apricot, like the inside of a shell held to your ear. There's a hush to it, like a dreamy, rose-tinted quality of a memory you're not sure actually happened or just felt so good it became one. The sound the ocean makes when you're small enough to believe it's singing just for you.

