About me
This website is currently being updated to reflect new works and an evolving artistic direction.
Thank you for your patience while changes are in progress.
I’m a contemporary artist based in Napier, New Zealand, working with light, texture, and contrast to create sculptural works that shift with their environment.
My creative life didn’t begin with paint.
It began with shadow and light.
Before moving into abstraction, I studied B & W photography, the discipline of composition without colour, where everything depends on contrast, timing, and the quiet tension between what is revealed and what is withheld. That way of seeing never left me.
I grew up surrounded by creativity in my family in Belgium, where an eye for detail and materials were part of everyday life. Belgian lace, in particular, left a lasting impression on me. The intricacy, repetition, and patience embedded in something so fragile yet structured. That sensitivity to detail still runs through my work today, even in very different materials.
After relocating to New Zealand more than 30 years ago, my practice shifted again. I spent some time living and hiking in the South Island, and it changed the way I see space, scale, and silence. The landscapes there don’t just sit in front of you; they pull you into them. That sense of vastness and stillness began to influence how I think about light, depth, and atmosphere in my work.
From there, I moved into alcohol ink painting under the name Limitless Abstracts. Those works were about release, fluid movement, unpredictability, and colour finding its own path. It was a period of letting go of control and learning to trust the process.
Wanting to move more into 3D, texture and sculpture led me into what I now call Textured Lightworks. These pieces are slower and more deliberate, built layer by layer to respond to light and shadow as part of the work itself. They sit somewhere between object and experience, changing as the viewer moves.
What connects all of these stages is a fascination with duality: structure and flow, control and surrender, presence and absence. I’ve always been drawn to that space in between.
There’s a quote often attributed to Edward Hopper that has stayed with me:
“If I could say it in words, there would be no reason to paint.”
For me, it speaks to the place where language ends and something more instinctive begins. That is where my work lives.
With love and light,
Lucie x