We had reached Kampung Sting on a trek in Sarawak, resting for the evening, when the sky simply caught fire — long bands of vermilion and orange ripping through deep stormy blue, all of it reflected in the dark glass of the reservoir below. The mountains had already gone to silhouette, a soft black line stretching across the whole horizon, and the water held the entire sky upside down like a second painting underneath the first. Working with oils, I let the sky carry the colour at full strength — those reds, the molten yellow at the horizon, the bruised blues above — and kept the foreground and ridges in solid darks so nothing would compete with the burning centre. A few thin grasses leaned in along the lower edge to remind you that you were really standing somewhere, looking. There's a kind of sunset particular to the Borneo highlands, almost operatic, and to watch one is to feel briefly that the world is being staged just for you. I painted it so you could have one too.