These five images begin as sunset photographs and end somewhere closer to colour itself. Each was taken from a single elevated position looking west, the same light and the same horizon returned to repeatedly until the specific evening it recorded became less important than the colour it left behind. I have deliberately not smoothed every trace of what these once were. A horizon still lies underneath most of these fields, faint, imperfect, sometimes barely legible, and I think that trace matters. This is what separates this from an exercise in imitating painting, and keeps it a photograph that has been pushed toward abstraction rather than a picture designed to look like one from the outset. This is the first small body of work in a longer inquiry into how far a photographed sky can be taken before it stops describing a place and starts operating as pure colour and light. I expect to return to this question, from other vantage points and other seasons, in further series to come.