Wings to the Shore 
Medium: Oil on Canvas
Size: 61cm x 90cm.
 
Wings to the Shore — The Story Behind the Painting
Like many of us, I find comfort and renewal at the beach — that moment when you emerge from the water, salt-kissed and calm, walking back across golden sand toward land again. That brief journey inspired Wings to the Shore.
 
As I imagined that return, the ever-present seagulls came to mind — not as scenery, but as sentinels. One hops quickly out of your path, while others scatter upward in loose formation. Their movement is so familiar and gentle, almost dismissive — yet they are deeply part of the beach’s spirit. In this painting, they form a triangular composition in the foreground, representing freedom, guardianship, and intuition. Their wings lead the eye — and the spirit — back to shore.
 
Behind them, monumental rock formations stand still and proud. These are no ordinary rocks. Time has carved stories into their surface — enduring centuries of wind, waves, and shifting light. On closer look, you'll notice the suggestion of faces in the stone. These are quiet tributes to the First Nations Peoples whose deep connection to land and spirit still reverberates through this place. The rocks are the keepers of memory.
 
Above, a dramatic sky commands attention. The clouds, split into two vast formations, glow with inner light — hinting at an approaching shift in weather, or perhaps something internal. There is tension and openness. They stretch across a brilliant blue sky, representing transition, clarity, and the unknowable energy that moves around us.
 
The composition invites the viewer to move through it:
The foreground, animated by birds, is the present moment — instinctual, raw, alive.
The middle ground, still and ancient, anchors us to history and place.
The background, swelling with cloud and light, is where mystery and potential reside.
 
I work intuitively. Much of what emerges in my paintings feels guided — as though the image knows more than I do. But Wings to the Shore feels like a personal meditation on movement, stillness, and the spirit of return. It is a moment of quiet transition — of coming out of one element and stepping into another — while being witnessed by the silent, sacred forms of the land and its guardians.
 
Whether you’ve been to this beach or not, I hope you feel the memory of it. The rhythm of it. The sense of being held by land, sky and something much older than both.