This French Riviera beach painting was born out of one of very strange summer day in paradise. The moments that inspired it are etched in my mind, as clear as the water was. Despite of (or BECAUSE of), the lunchtime rosé. But not only.

Our summer day started out blissfully perfect: a stand-up paddling adventure among friends, exploring the coastline from one perfect French Riviera beach to another, from Èze sur Mer, en route to Cap d'Ail's mythical Mala beach—until the wind picked up, the sea turned against us, and we had to turn right back around back to Èze. 

When one finds oneself stranded on a beautiful beach in paddle gear, what's one to do but re-fuel, French Riviera style? So, we decided to use our stranded adrift status to stop for a much needed apero (for lack of alternate, more casual options) at one of the only two of the very fancy beach clubs on this particular beach. Somewhere between our cocktails, giddiness and slight heat exhaustion, one of our paddles exploded. Not with a whisper, but with a very loud, very big bang.  An epic bang. One minute we were gliding across the water, the next, we were stranded, paddle-less (some of us shirtless) somewhere fancy, ridiculously underdressed and looking like shipwreck survivors among linen-draped diners. But... we had to eat! 

And so, on this perfectly beautiful, quintessentially azure, Côte d'Azur day, we are sitting said luxury beach club, looking anything BUT glamourous or stylish, waiting for two more friends to join us—one an architect, the other a manager for a very cool boutique hotel group. The beach scene before us was breathtakingly beautiful: striped umbrellas, white umbrellas, fresh towels, cold drinks, crisp loungers, and an uninterrupted horizon of blue sky meeting blue sea as a backdrop. A perfect summer day on the French Riviera. A breathtaking, carefree, dreamy dream filled with glorious sea breezes and an exploded paddle. I mean... Med problems are not real problems, right?  

It's a Hard Knock Beach Life: Drama On the Med

And then, right there at the edge of this French Riviera paradise, our friends suddenly and unexpectedly broke into tears, just as our overpriced appetizers and rosé arrived. They had both just been laid off. No warning, no reason, just restructuring. They were let go from jobs they absolutely loved, the jobs that brought them to these wonderful places, and fuelled their travel itch for the past 5++ years. 

I remember sitting there, utterly torn. Part of me was deeply present with them, trying to hold space for their grief and feeling it with them, as any proper friend should. But another part of me—the artistic one, found her eyes magnetized by shapes and beauty and colour and light. I was hypnotized by the stark contrasts around us: a very sad, very unexpected real life problem unfolding in a setting so beautiful it almost blinded me with its visual appeal:  the graphic stripes of the beach towels, the gleam of the perfectly blue shade of the oversized shrimp bowl, the sunlight looking like dancing diamonds on a mirror of water—it all clashed so poignantly with the heaviness of that moment. 

Sadness in Sunshine: Having a Mood in the Mediterranean. Is it Ok?

In Mediterranean Bliss, I wanted to capture not just the aesthetic of the scene, but the emotional complexity beneath it. The figure in the second panel is a stand-in for all of us—caught between joy and sorrow, escape and reality, the moment and what lingers underneath it. The woman that caught my eye was beaching alone, seeming so utterly relaxed, and having not a care in the world, except perhaps what she should drink next. She found herself in my painting,  in conversation with someone just out of the frame, as if the painting itself knows that not everything can—or should—be fully revealed.

To me, this idyllic beach painting symbolizes the strange duality of living in paradise while real life still happens. It's about how even in the most serene, seemingly perfect moments, the weight of being human doesn’t go away. And yet, the Mediterranean, in all its clarity and warmth and colour, continues to offer something close to grace. A beauty so profound that even in grief, it stirs something transcendent. 

That's the paradox I'm chasing on canvas. And that's what makes the Mediterranean so achingly sublime. It doesn't ask you to forget what you're carrying, but it does distract you, even momentarily, from remembering what you're carrying. The great seductress. And somehow, when you're going through problems on the Med (because yes, life still happens), you feel even worse for feeling bad among such beauty, in a place where everyone is smiling and living their best beach lives. And there are those contrasts again, this time metaphorically speaking. 

Artists Gone Coastal: Why the French Riviera Inspires Art

I’m far from the first artist to fall under the spell of the French Riviera, or to paint surrounded by beauty, and by very real and valid human feelings and problems. This coastal region has long captivated painters with its radiant light and dreamlike palette. Henri Matisse once called the light in Nice “soft and tender, despite its brilliance,” and it transformed his work into something almost spiritual. Raoul Dufy, with his vibrant, joyful and graphic scenes of seaside life, brought the Riviera’s festivity and charm to life with dazzling brushstrokes. And Picasso, too, found inspiration in the region’s warmth and sensuality—so much so that he settled into its rhythm for years.

There’s something about this place that simplifies and intensifies at once: the colours are brighter, the shadows sharper, the emotions closer to the surface. Like those artists before me, I find that the Mediterranean isn’t just a backdrop—it’s an active presence in my work.

It  informs the mood, the movement, the emotional layering of my art. It draws me into its elegance, shapes, stripes, and colours - even as it invites deeper questions beneath the abundant surface beauty. And it also invites more than a little guesswork: "Who lives behind this amazing window with such a creative (and fun) way to make some shade? Who will swim in this amazing rooftop pool this evening, and what amazing places are they coming from or going to? What's the REAL story behind the valet parking the porches"? Where on earth is that yacht going, and who's on it? Can you ever possibly feel bad on a yacht? Ever? Because the Riviera is a people watcher's dream, and it feeds your imagination in every second with the company it keeps, and the history (and secrets) that hide behind the parasols. And tinted yacht windows. 

My Creative Process: The Art Between Seeing and Feeling

My creative process always begins by travel: immersing myself in the landscapes, cultures, colours, landscapes and moments of the places I move through, using all my senses to fully experience the destination. Along the way, I photograph, sketch and take videos of everything that inspires me, bringing my gaze and experience of an art director and designer into my artistic process.

When I’m back in my art studio, I create moodboards based on my sketches, photos and objects collected, creating each artwork from a blend of references in order to best capture the essence of the setting, using a combination mixed media techniques: drawing, painting and collage, and always adding a graphic twist: a blend of fine art and design. And always tied together by assertive compositions that bring to light those elements that remain on my retina and in my memories when I close my eyes. 

This particular beach artwork—like the rest of the collection—started with composition sketches, and then moved on to hand-painting on canvas using oils and acrylic paint. I always begin with traditional materials because I believe in the emotional texture of paint—the way a brushstroke can suggest sunlight or tension or ease, or too much coffee. I layer thin washes of acrylic with heavier oil textures, building up light, atmosphere, and nuance over time. And then I usually layer different textures and mediums on the finished canvas artwork to add a graphic, precise touch. 

The tactile nature of my process is important. Even when a piece is later adapted into a fine art print, it carries the warmth and intention of the original. You can sense the hand behind it—the slow build of colour, the instinctive composition, and sometimes (I hope), at least little fragments of the story behind it. 

Beneath the Brushstrokes: How My Designer Brain and Overthinking Heart Make Art Together

My years as an art director and graphic designer deeply inform the way I approach painting. Composition is everything: negative space, clean lines, the rhythm of shapes. I bring a graphic, contemporary edge to each piece—a design sensibility that makes the work feel editorial and clean, while remaining emotionally rich. It’s this intersection—between feeling and form, between narrative and layout—that defines my visual language.

For me, there’s another very essential ingredient that goes into all my artwork. It has to come from a moment that stopped me on my tracks, whether this moment was caused by something that I couldn’t look away from, or from a fleeting emotion that I will remember forever, or from a collage of moments that weave an emotional tone around a journey – there has to be something that marked my heart, that changed my mind, or that made me grow in understanding, and evolved the way I see the world a little differently.

Mediterranean Bliss can offer more than aesthetic value—at a first glance, it brings an elevated mood and eternal vacation vibe to your wall décor. But if you want to dig a little deeper, and scratch beyond the surface (not literally!), you may learn that most art is created from a backstory that inspired the artist, and infused with a rich repertoire of questions, dilemmas and human emotions that may bring forth some deeper questions about the human psyche, and life in general. (But only if you want to know ;)

How YOU Can Incorporate French Rivera Art Into Your Home Decor - And Make It Your Own

If you’ve ever dreamed of a slow afternoon in Saint-Tropez or the salty breeze of a Nice beach café, French Riviera posters and French Riviera prints offer a simple, beautiful way to channel those eternal sunshine vibes into your home decor. These art prints work wonderfully as statement wall art above a bed, console, or dining table—especially when paired with neutral interiors or soft Mediterranean tones like sandy beige, seafoam green, and terracotta. 

The tones and forms reflect a lifestyle defined by both ease and elegance. Whether placed in a coastal living room, Mediterranean-inspired villa, or contemporary gallery wall, the work creates a sense of transport—of stepping into a story that’s both intimate and timeless.

Want to go bolder? Create a home art gallery wall that mixes South of France posters with black-and-white photography, graphic prints, or vintage travel art. The juxtaposition adds depth, and the Riviera color palette ties it all together effortlessly. You can also combine Riviera-inspired artwork with natural textures—linen, rattan, driftwood—for a coastal-chic vibe that feels curated and elevated. And if you want to add a playful decor element that is both classy, contemporary AND fun, throw in some extra marinière stripes for good measure. It will conjure up an instant beach mood people will want to linger in for that extra Aperol Spritz ;)

You can find the fine art poster version of this work here. And the framed art print here.

And for an extra little bit of art and escapism, I made a short video of the process and the beach scenery from this epic day in Èze Sur Mer here.

Happy beaching!

Explore the rest of my French Riviera Collection, my Beachside Collection or Landscape Art Collection here to find additional prints that pair beautifully with Mediterranean Bliss. For an eclectic, modern decor effect, try mixing some sun-drenched beach scenes with contemporary, black and white graphic Urban and Architectural Cityscapes, Each sketch, drawing and painting I make is designed to transport you to a cool place, moment or place infused with good vibes and a lot of beauty.