Hi, I’m Claire
For me, creativity isn’t a choice — it’s something that lives inside me. It’s a fundamental part of who I am. Visual language is my language: the way I communicate with the world and also how I process things within myself.
I’ve always been drawn to experimenting and exploring. Travel has been a big part of that, and I’ve lived and worked in five different countries.
Today I live off-grid in a tiny home in Portugal, under a big sky and surrounded by untamed beauty. Nature, wild spaces and the feeling of freedom are essential elements of both my life and my work.
My Goal:
My goal is to create spaces where feeling can exist without explanation. Through Listening Lines and Notes From The Horizon, I explore quiet visual language as a way to process, preserve and share the in-between moments of being human. My work exists to explore the quiet in-between — where emotion, movement and stillness meet on the page.
“Exploring art that holds the feeling of a moment, just before or just after change — like the edge of a tide or the turn of a breath.”
Listening Lines
Listening Lines is my current body of work. The paintings grow from observation of quiet phenomena — tides turning, wind moving across a surface, the horizon holding distance, the rhythm of breath.
My work begins with observation — the tide pausing before it turns, the space at the horizon, the moment an inhale becomes an exhale. Working predominantly with ink, I follow these small shifts rather than describing the landscape itself. Each painting becomes a record of attention, allowing marks to appear, soften and sometimes disappear. I think of them as quiet anchors within a space — reminders to slow down enough to notice what is usually passed over.
Ink allows marks to emerge slowly. It resists certainty; it spreads, softens and sometimes disappears. Because of this, the process becomes collaborative rather than controlled. Each painting records a sequence of attention — where the line ceases, where a line pauses, where negative space becomes active. I think of the work as an exploration of thresholds: the point between movement and stillness, presence and absence, intention and release. These are often the moments we pass over, yet they shape how a place or experience is felt.
The resulting works are quiet, but not empty. They are intended to sit within a space without demanding it — offering a place for the eye to rest and the mind to settle. Rather than presenting a landscape, they invite a way of looking: attentive, patient, and receptive to change.
Notes From The Horizon
L started Notes From The Horizon because I wanted a quieter way to connect.
The online world can feel so loud sometimes — scrolling, videos, notifications, instant replies. As an introvert and a highly sensitive person, tiredness and overwhelm are things I often have to deal with.
I love the calm of reading words on paper, the gentle weight of an envelope in my hands, the simple act of unfolding a letter and taking my time with someone’s thoughts and I am enjoying the revival of slow correspondence. There’s no rush, no pressure, no noise, just a slower, more thoughtful kind of connection. I also love the personal touch of creating tactile and textured “little notes”. These notes are from me but they’re also little notes from me working in collaboration with the universe, with nature.
So I created this creative mail membership for anyone who craves that same space: paper, quiet, texture and a little bit of magic in the mail.