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For Sandi Goodwin, color is never neutral. It arrives saturated with rules, histories, taboos, and expectations. In her work, she challenges the accepted hierarchies of color—those unspoken agreements about what is beautiful, what is jarring, what is “right.” These boundaries, reinforced by trends and institutional teachings, are not merely technical; they are cultural, emotional, and moral.
Goodwin questions our instinctive associations—blue as soothing, red as provocative—and asks why certain colors are labeled “ugly,” “clashing,” or “garish.” She sees the palette of taste as coded by colonial legacies, gender roles, class structures, and deep psychological conditioning. Colors, like words, are symbols—chosen, rejected, inherited. Yet, unlike words, they bypass language and speak directly to the body.
In her abstract practice, Goodwin uses color in ways that might be considered wrong—intentionally dissonant, emotionally ambiguous, or outright confrontational. She is drawn to the discomfort that certain combinations provoke, inviting viewers to ask why that discomfort exists. Who taught us that certain hues should not coexist? Who decided what harmony looks like?
Her rebellion against chromatic correctness is not chaos for chaos’s sake—it is an act of reclamation. Through her work, she reclaims instinct, curiosity, and criticality. Goodwin treats color as something to be questioned, just like form, subject, or narrative. She believes color can unlearn.