Fall in love. All over again.

Sam's Blog

Fall in love. All over again.

For this autumn, I wanted to bring together paintings that would keep some warmth in the room as the days grow shorter. I think colour can do that. A yellow can hold your attention like a small light; a deep blue can give it somewhere to shine. My Fall 2026 collection brings seven new paintings together around that feeling, and around a thought that runs through my work: we have something worth keeping alive in ourselves, and something worth sharing with one another.

Autumn gives that thought a familiar shape. A leaf changes colour, holds on for a while, then falls. We know what is happening, but we still stop to look. There is so much life in those reds and yellows that the ending never seems to be the whole story. In the three Leave paintings, I explored the point where a leaf becomes a heart. The name moves between leaf, live and leave, three small words that bring us very quickly to much bigger things. Underneath the wordplay is a simple hope: one more day can make all the difference.

That is why the leaves have something to say. Across Leave Part 1, Leave Part 2 and Leave Part 3, the messages are “Shine On”, “Fall In Love” and “Live!” One leaf glows red, another turns yellow, and the third stays green through the autumn. I like giving each of them its own way of carrying the same hope. There are days when we need encouragement to keep going, days when we need to make room for someone, and days when a little colour is enough to draw us back towards the world. These are small reminders, and I want them to remain that simple.

The words “Shine On” return in the painting of that name, where a red heart sends yellow light across green. It carries the fire that I believe we each have within us, and the wish to let others see it. Beside that outward burst of light, Campfire holds its orange glow against a deep night blue, with sparks rising around it. Looking at the two together, warmth feels both personal and shared. A fire can be something we carry inside; it can also be something we gather around. That movement, from ourselves towards other people, matters to this collection.

It finds another expression in European. Here, I imagined the stars of the European flag melting into an open heart. The blue and yellow are familiar, but the shape they make is an invitation: there is room to come in. As autumn draws us towards the warmth of home, I want to keep that openness in view too. The care we give ourselves and the welcome we offer someone else belong together. A heart on a wall can be an everyday reminder of both, quietly present in the place where we live.

There is room for curiosity here as well. In Magritte (Homage), a green apple has taken the shape of a heart and hangs in an empty blue space. I considered calling it “This is not an apple”, a nod to René Magritte and the questions his paintings leave with us. It brings a little playfulness into the collection. You can recognise something familiar and still be surprised by it; you can spend time looking without having to settle on one answer. I hope that openness stays with these paintings as people get to know them.

Together, these seven works are what I want to offer for Fall: colour to live with, warmth to return to, and reminders to keep caring. They belong to the same conversation even when their moods differ. My wish to see hearts on walls has always been tied to what happens beyond those walls—to the way we treat ourselves and one another. A painting becomes part of someone's daily surroundings, seen in passing and then noticed again. I like the possibility that, on one of those ordinary days, its message might meet us just when we need it.

The seven original oil paintings are now together in Fall 2026. I hope you'll take a little time with them, first as a collection and then with whichever painting draws you closer. I'd love to hear what you find there, and what you would carry with you into the season.

Sam