Dear creative friends,
Welcome to Issue No. 81 of the Studioworks Journal. September brings us into a season of thresholds, the soft, suspended hour between day and night we call the gloaming. (A favorite time of day for me!) Across cultures, twilight has long been a time of reflection, magic, and quiet transition. It is the moment when the known slips gently toward the unknown, when light and shadow meet in perfect balance.
In our creative lives, we also experience these in-between places. Moments when a work is not yet finished, when an idea hovers on the edge of becoming, when we feel the shift from one season of our art to another. The gloaming reminds us that these spaces are fertile and necessary, holding both memory and possibility.
This month, we’ll explore how to work within this symbolic light, balancing warm and cool, form and atmosphere, clarity and mystery. Let’s see how the spirit of twilight can infuse our art with both depth and luminosity.
xo,
As the shadows begin to lengthen and hints of fall begin coloring the fluttering leaves with greater regularity, we sense the shift in seasons in many ways. The mood of change reaches for us, and our imaginations are caught in its grasp. It’s times like these that invite us into the liminal, beckoning us towards a portal of renewed creativity.
As artists, we are intimately acquainted with bridging worlds. The domain of our imaginations must be carefully tied to the physical, where our creations are made manifest, without bruising the source of our inspiration. These considerations have long captivated artists and led to abundant works celebrating the gloaming, the space between day and night, where the golden hues of a fading sun still illuminate, casting even the familiar in a new light. Join me in exploring this luminous yet shadowy domain as we stroll through the history of the gloaming in art and symbolism.
The word gloaming is a linguistic marvel, derived from the Old English glōmung, which sprang from the Germanic word glōm, meaning twilight, a word which was itself built upon the Proto-Germanic glō. The poetry of this word is in its linguistically unique inclusion of glow; no other term so neatly points to this most poignant aspect of twilight, the time when the whole world emanates a light of its own, becoming the source that draws artists to this magical space like moths to the flame.
Furthering its power, the gloaming also contains a semantic connection with gloom. These opposing subliminal aspects of the word, namely glow and gloom, add to its symbolic strength and dynamism. Thus, it can be used to evoke impressions of darkness, doom, and fearful portents just as readily as warmth, light, and the possibility of redemption, offering a broad spectrum of artistic inspiration.
Artists from every significant period in art, from Baroque to Romantic to Impressionist to modern day, have focused upon the play of light and its significance in the creation of beautiful, evocative, and contemplative imagery. However, particular artists have mastered both technique and the indefinably subtle elements comprising more of a feeling sense than something language can fully encapsulate. This is where the energy, mood, and symbolism of the gloaming are captured.
One Baroque artist who undeniably tread this sacred ground is Claude Lorrain. His ability to convey the mystique of twilight is seen readily in works such as Seaport at Sunset. The drama of human activity, subdued by the softness of pastel hues and the setting sun, is a masterwork in contrast.
Seaport at Sunset
By Claude Lorrain, 1639
Evening Landscape with Two Men
By Caspar David Friedrich, 1837
Moving forward in time, the Romantics repeatedly demonstrated that they were no strangers to the potency of chiaroscuro, mastering the mesmerizing dynamics between light and shadow. One artist who shone in this respect is Caspar David Friedrich. In pieces such as Evening Landscape with Two Men and The Abbey in the Oakwood, he evokes rich feeling and a sense of mystery through his play of opposites.
In the modern era, many artists remain transfixed by the dreamy, liminal, and shadowy aspects of the gloaming. One standout artist created an entire exhibit dedicated to exploring the nebulous beauty of this portal time, titled David Waterston: In the Gloaming. Each piece taps the collective unconscious, calling us to see what is unseeable and imagine the unbelievable.
The gloaming is a fundamentally compelling time where the carapace defending the distinct domains of day and night is cracked open, and one bleeds into the other. This rendering of opposites draws us into a mood of contemplation that can lead us seamlessly between glow and gloom. This powerfully evocative theme, with its rich symbolism and endless imagistic potential, has made it an enduring lure to artists throughout history.
For us, as creators, the gloaming offers a formidable tool to generate something beautiful. We can take abundant inspiration from those who have come before us, learning from their skilled execution. In addition, we can embrace the renewed possibility to capture something special granted to us each day in those magical moments between day and night. In so doing, we lean into the tenderness of the sun’s goodnight kiss, bathing in the afterglow.
Each day offers us a gift in the form of a setting sun. As the final flames lick the sky, scattering multicolored light, we are bathed in potential inspiration. Though the gloaming refers to twilight, it also symbolically represents something broader, a pervasive vibe or mood. We can apply the term to the rising sun or a shadow-laden afternoon darkened by an impending storm.
As we cast our nets wider, we can pull more schools of inspiration’s fish from the waves of our inner ocean. What we make of this is uniquely our own, channeled from the well of our personal source. Let’s explore embracing the in-between and harvesting the ample creative inspiration available in the gloaming.
If we examine what makes the twilight magical, a major feature is the ambiguity. The absence of a clear delineation between light and dark creates a tension, a feeling of unbounded potentiation. We can tap into and capture this feeling in our artistic expression in many ways, including the following:
A solid starting point is actively and deliberately sharpening our awareness. One way to do this is to take note of differences in lighting in each portion of the day. This establishes a point of reference for what makes the gloaming unique.
To concretize the process, you could take a photo of a specific subject (preferably something you care for, be it a plant, animal, person, or cherished object) at dawn, in the afternoon, and at sunset. A time-lapse video would be even more thorough, as would choosing a clear day to contrast with an overcast one.
The objective is to train yourself to notice nuance, to tune in more thoroughly, and observe how much can shift in the way we view things with the change of light and the addition of shadow. Become a detective of subtlety, finding fascination in the details and using your discoveries to generate the qualities that comprise the twilight atmosphere.
As referenced before, the gloaming is liminal and, as such, neither here nor there, leaving openness to interpretation and freedom to follow where our imaginations lead. In shadows, we might perceive a threat or just as readily feel provoked and enticed by the mystery of the unseen. Not knowing is part of the allure.
What else conjures feelings like this? How can we generate an energy that creates an open curiosity while retaining the mystery? How do we point in the direction of something unseen while avoiding the promise to disclose all secrets?
The direction the in-between draws you towards will determine your answers to the above questions, as well as the atmosphere you want to evoke. You might desire moody music, candles, and walks in cemeteries within the gloaming. However, you could just as easily be drawn to cliff tops with sweeping vistas where you can enact a Maxfield Parrish painting bathed in pastel hues and kissed golden by the fading sun. Your mood, your choice.
For as many consecutive days as you can put together, watch both the sunrise and the sunset. These miraculous occurrences happen every day, and no two are the same; and though they are both liminal, their energies are powerfully divergent. Ask yourself why that might be as you observe the consequences unfolding in your surroundings.
You might notice that the shadows of dawn feel less ominous because you know that the sun is soon going to melt away the darkness. You may observe that flowers and other plants are more ebullient at sunset, almost as if they are serenading the fading sun in colorful radiance, blessing it in gratitude for the day's warmth. Whatever your experience, you are bound to witness tremendous beauty and see things in a new light.
The gloaming is a period of reflection. The world holds its collective breath as our source of light departs. Silhouettes become darker, colors become brighter, thoughts turn unexpectedly hither and thither. These happenings are openings to examine our inner worlds and use what we find there to create.
This can mean writing down and then drawing what we dream. Or, sitting quietly at midday, while the world bustles around us, and examining what we think and feel. It can entail journaling our feelings as the sun enters or leaves our sphere of activity. There are no wrong ways to be contemplative, and the results of following what works for and inspires you will always be on point.
We can tap into the feeling of the gloaming in our creative work in many ways: sharpening our awareness, inhabiting spaces that evoke the liminal's tonal quality and mood, taking time to watch the sunrise and sunset, and going inward for deep reflection and contemplation.
We can ask ourselves what needs to transition in our life and our art to help us be more generous, fertile, and productive in our work. Doorways are possibilities, and yet not everyone is ours to pass through. They urge us to heed ourselves, honoring our calling and not walking mindlessly. If we tread with care, we can be certain that when we confront the liminal and embrace the ambiguity it entails, we will find ourselves swimming in an infinite sea of inspiration, basking in the depths of possibility alive in the gloaming.
According to the Oxford English Dictionary, the word twilight is defined as:
The soft glowing light from the sky when the sun is below the horizon, caused by the reflection of the sun’s rays from the atmosphere.
Also: A period or state of obscurity, ambiguity, or gradual decline.
Twilight is threshold. Twilight is balance. It is the fleeting hour when day leans into night, when light and shadow share the sky. As artists, we often dwell in similar spaces, between clarity and mystery, between what is seen and what is felt. Twilight reminds us to linger in these in-between places, where inspiration often stirs most strongly.
Working with twilight means slowing down and noticing transitions. It asks us to soften our edges, to let color shift gently, to hold space for the unknown as much as the known. Just as twilight blurs boundaries in the sky, our art can hold both contrast and harmony at once. In embracing twilight, we invite mystery, subtlety, and quiet reflection into our creative practice.
Let’s tap into our creative intuition and do some self-reflective work inspired by our theme. Below you will see our month’s Oracle/Tarot card spread. But fear not, if you are not one drawn to using oracle or tarot cards, no worries, just use the accompanying reflective questions as writing prompts for your journals!
Here’s a four-card oracle card spread designed to tap into your creative intuition and our themes. This spread and its journaling prompts encourage reflection on the artist’s inner wisdom, the magic of inspiration, and the journey of trusting intuition in the creative process.
Treat yourself to this wonderful and powerful meditation from one of my favorite meditation creators - Rachel Hillary
Here’s a little more information from Rachel…
This guided meditation and visualisation leads you to a beautiful lake at sunset. Here, we gently soften, release what may be holding us back, and relax into our creativity, our sensuality, our self love, and flow. This is a very feeling practice with energetic deep diving.
Please note there is no ending bell or words in this practice, and there is 5 mins of music at the end, for you to simply flow.
I hope you enjoy, sending you love.
lots of love,
Rachel
Each month we will have a positive affirmation. I recommend you print out this affirmation and put it in your sketchbook or somewhere in your studio. Recite the affirmation out loud each time you show up to create. Saying words aloud is powerful and can begin to re-write some of our own limiting beliefs or calm our fears. Try it now…
This month’s palette is shaped by the twilight visions of Ferdinand du Puigaudeau, often called the painter of lanterns. His work glows with the delicate balance of fading day and approaching night, where flickers of gold and rose dissolve into pools of indigo and teal.
We’re working with golden amber, echoing the lantern light in his village processions, and dusky rose, like the last warmth of sunset. Silvery lavender drifts into soft grey, capturing the haze of night as it gathers. Deep indigo and smoky teal anchor the atmosphere, while moss green grounds the earth below. A touch of shadow plum lingers at the edges, carrying mystery into darkness.
Together these colors create a palette of transition, subtle, tender, and luminous. They hold both warmth and coolness, presence and absence. They invite us to paint not only what we see, but what we feel in the in-between.
As you work with these tones, let Puigaudeau’s example guide you. Use them in veils and layers, in softened edges, in compositions where glow takes precedence over detail. Let them remind you that light is never static, it flickers, fades, and transforms, just as we do in our creative lives.
Ferdinand Loyen du Puigaudeau (1864–1930) was a French painter whose name is not as widely known as Monet, Degas, or Gauguin, yet his work shimmers with a singular magic. Born in Nantes, Puigaudeau grew up in a cultured family but often felt like an outsider. He was restless, drawn more to the atmospheric effects of light and mood than to academic painting. After travels in Italy and Tunisia, he returned to France and began to develop a unique style, one rooted in Impressionism’s attention to light but imbued with the dreamlike qualities of Symbolism.
Puigaudeau is perhaps best remembered for his depictions of Brittany, especially the small town of Pont-Aven, where artists like Gauguin had already planted seeds of avant-garde experimentation. But while Gauguin sought bold colors and flat planes, Puigaudeau was captivated by something more ephemeral: the delicate transition of day into night, the glow of lanterns during village processions, the shimmer of fireworks dissolving into indigo skies. His peers sometimes called him “the painter of lanterns.”
Breaking Storm, Coast of Maine
By Winslow Homer, 1894
Night Fair at Saint-Pol-de-Léon
By Ferdinand Loyen du Puigaudeau, 1894-1898
At the heart of Puigaudeau’s art is the gloaming, the hush of twilight when light is neither here nor gone, when forms soften and atmosphere takes precedence over detail. In works like La Danse au Feu de Bengale (c. 1895), figures are illuminated by firelight that both reveals and obscures. In Fête Nocturne à Pont-Aven (1895), a carnival glows with radiance against a deep, smoky sky. And in quieter pieces, like Bretonne à la Lanterne (c. 1905), a single figure becomes a vessel for mystery, lit from within by surrounding glow.
Unlike the Impressionists, who often painted sunlight at its brightest, Puigaudeau lingered in transitional light. His brushwork dissolved detail into haze, his palettes layered warm flickers of amber and rose against pools of indigo and teal. This gave his paintings a liminal quality, part reality, part reverie. They feel like memories, or dreams just at the edge of waking.
Puigaudeau’s twilight paintings resonate today because they mirror our own lives as creatives. We, too, often work in transitional spaces:
between inspiration and execution,
between confidence and doubt,
between what we envision and what actually takes form on the page or canvas.
The gloaming reminds us that these moments are not failures or pauses, they are fertile ground. In the soft blur between clarity and obscurity, something new is always being born. Puigaudeau’s art invites us to honor that ambiguity rather than rush past it.
By: Fernand Loyen du Puigaudeau, 1925
Choose a subject, then let light be the true focal point. How does lantern glow, sunset haze, or candlelight change what you see?
Allow parts of your work to dissolve into atmosphere. What happens when you blur instead of sharpen, when you let mystery hold its place?
Experiment with pairing a warm hue (amber, rose, ochre) with its cooler counterpart (indigo, smoky teal, lavender). Notice how the tension between them creates depth and mood.
In your journal, ask: Where in my creative life am I in-between? What is ending, what is just beginning? How can I honor that moment rather than hurry it along?
Despite his talent, difficulty marked Puigaudeau’s life. He struggled financially and felt isolated from the Parisian art world, especially after disputes with dealers and friends. Yet he continued painting, deeply committed to his vision. Toward the end of his life, he lived in virtual seclusion in Brittany, painting the landscapes and festivals around him until his death in 1930.
His relative obscurity today is a reminder that brilliance is not always recognized in its own time. But for us, as modern artists and seekers, Puigaudeau offers a gift: the reminder that light, especially fragile, fleeting light, is always worth pursuing.
By: Fernand Loyen du Puigaudeau, 1923
Ferdinand du Puigaudeau painted the gloaming as if it were a sacred hour, shimmering with possibility. His work invites us to pause, to breathe, to see how mystery and light entwine. As you enter your own creative gloaming this month, may you let transition itself be your muse.
Are you ready to explore the tranquil beauty of pastel landscapes?
Inside Twilight's Embrace, this class isn’t just about technique—it’s about embracing your creativity. No need for specific supplies; use what you already have or choose a set that fits your budget. The focus is on the essentials: value and color temperature.
You’ll learn how to blend and layer pastels to capture the glow of twilight, while adding your own personal touch. Follow along step by step or let your creativity lead—the goal is to enjoy the process.
This class is perfect for anyone who wants to experience the beauty of landscapes through pastels. Grab your materials, join me, and create something truly beautiful.
You can also listen to this month’s issue of the Studioworks journal. I find I love listening to books, podcasts and music while I draw, paint or go on a long walk. Enjoy.
One of my favorite things to do is to curate inspiration. From Pinterest boards to books, resources, playlists and more - I love to share anything that might facilitate learning, expansion, and sparks of curiosity! Being an artist, we naturally crave these things so here are some of this month’s picks from me to you.
I had so much fun curating this list. I hope you enjoy!!
Classes that pair well with this month’s theme in your Studioworks Creative Library