Stillness. Assured. - 2025 05 16

Stillness. Assured. - Mixed media on mounted panel – 29 x 15 cm

In the studio today, finalizing a few pieces for the upcoming Art in the Country — amidst a gentle kind of chaos and a beautiful gesture of Mother’s Day blooms — this small, newly completed work.

This surface has held many narratives over the years. A figure has often moved through a wooded space here — cloaked, most often in red — always in motion, always walking away.

But a few weeks ago, I reached the end of that particular visual language. The motif of the “journey through the forest” no longer felt true. I removed the departing figure and, in her place, introduced this one.

Uncloaked. Grounded. Bearing a single, weathered wing.

She stands. Facing forward. Resolved. Unapologetic.

There’s a stillness in her presence — the kind that arrives only after the passage.

There’s something in her that feels complete to me. Quiet. Certain.

Even in the Shadows - 2025 05 03

Even in The Shadows - Oil on canvas – 1m x 1.6m

This work is a meditation on contrast—between stillness and movement, shadow and light, uncertainty and quiet strength. I was drawn to the idea that even in our darkest moments, light has a way of persisting—not in a dramatic or overpowering way, but gently, steadily, with quiet conviction.

As I painted, I let the process be intuitive. I worked in layers, allowing the brushstrokes to evolve organically—soft washes of blue and grey gradually giving way to subtle openings of warmth and light. There’s a sense of atmosphere here, like a landscape half-remembered, or a sky in transition. It isn’t a literal place, but a feeling. A space of introspection and slow unfolding.

Even in The Shadows is a reflection of resilience—not the loud kind, but the type that sits patiently, breathes deeply, and waits for the light to return. It speaks to the strength we find when we allow ourselves to be still, to sit with uncertainty, and to trust that clarity will come.

This piece has been one of quiet transformation, both in its making and in what it holds. It’s will be on show at Art in the Country at Harrington House in Hilton (22–25 May), and I’d love for you to come see it in person. There’s something about the way it interacts with space and light that can’t be captured in a photo.

Art in The Country - 2025 04 26

As a first-time exhibitor, it is an honour to be part of the annual Art In The Country Art Exhibition, here in beautiful Hilton, KwaZulu-Natal. I feel deeply privileged to create and share alongside a vibrant community of passionate creatives. This event is more than an exhibition—it’s a celebration of art, life, and connection. From the live music drifting through the air to the gourmet food and fine wine, every moment is infused with joy and inspiration.

We are all deeply grateful for the incredible drive, passion, and commitment from Kathy Jacob and her team, as well as the generous support of the main sponsor, Spar KZN, and supporting sponsors: Harrington House, The quarry Super Spar and Tops, Harcourts Hilton and BroKoop.
Thanks to them, we all get to enjoy and be part of this extraordinary celebration of art and community.

Click here to see the reel … spinning from my studio

Birds on a Wire - 2025 04 22

Birds on a Wire
Mixed Media Assemblage

This piece is deeply personal to me—an assemblage that reflects on both freedom and migration. The birds you see are more than just silhouettes in flight; they represent the invisible pull of instinct, the quiet intelligence that guides creatures across vast distances using the Earth’s magnetic field. I’ve always been fascinated by how birds just know when and where to go, finding their seasonal homes with such certainty. In creating this work, I wanted to explore that sense of direction—both physical and emotional. To me, migration isn’t just movement; it’s a return, a search for place and purpose. This piece is a tribute to that journey.

When possible, I love to use natural, found materials from around my home to package artwork; like dried plants and simple string … making each parcel personal, thoughtful, and connected to the spirit of the work.

Click here to see the reel of the piece on exhibit

Home is Here - 2025 04 17

Home is Here I
Mixed Media on wood
Mini-Series: Home is Here

Part of a new collection of small works titled Home is Here, this mixed media landscape on wood is one of my new little favorites. It feels dreamy and peaceful, like a gentle sigh released as one looks out at the end of a day across a field veiled in mist knowing … I am Home.

Click here to see a reel of the work in-studio

New Hope - 2025 04 15

New Hope II
Mixed Media on Panel
Mini-Series: Fragments of the Horizon

In New Hope II, I explored the quiet power of renewal through layers of texture, metallic shimmer, and ephemeral color washes. The work emerged intuitively, built up in moments of stillness—each mark a whisper of resilience. The soft luminosity pushing through the darker masses reflects the tension between uncertainty and the promise of transformation. It’s part of a small series where I let memory, landscape, and emotion dissolve into abstraction, leaving only the feeling of a horizon re imagined.

Homes on Hills, Sheltered - 2025 04 10

Homes on hills, Sheltered - Mixed Media on Wood - 18x9cm

When I look at this piece, I see more than texture—I feel terrain. The surface rises and breaks like earth shaped by time, and from it, small shelters emerge, almost as if they’ve grown from the land itself. There’s a sense of quiet protection here, like these homes are cradled in a valley between hills, held by something older and enduring. I feel hope when I see them—fragile yet rooted, like resilience made visible.

Homeward: Dreams - 2025 04 03

Homeward, Dreams I and II (Sold)
7cm x 16cm x 2cm | Mixed media on panel .. it’s available DM for details

In both Homeward, Dreams I and II, I wanted to capture the feeling of journeying back to a place of comfort and belonging. The figure with the umbrella represents shelter and protection, much like the security we find in our homes. The lamb, inspired by Mary’s Little Lamb, symbolizes innocence, companionship, and nostalgia—echoing the memories that stay with us. I used deep blues and greens to create a dreamlike atmosphere, contrasted with glowing gold and earthy tones to suggest warmth and transition. Through fluid textures and shifting light, I aimed to evoke the movement between past and future, the known and the unknown, ultimately reflecting the emotional and spiritual journey of finding home.

Finding Breath. Finding Light - 2025 03 22

Finally, after reworking this piece many times, today it reached completion.
Beneath many textured layers of shimmering gold, deep greens, blues, and soft whites, the figure, suspended between air and water, merges into an ethereal form, where the boundaries between elements gently dissolve.

40cm x 30cm x 4cm | Mixed media on panel .. it’s available DM for details

Finding Breath - 2025 03 04

After a gruelling season where I felt I was drowning under the weight of things, I’d begun a series of works featuring swimmers. To my surprise, both Patrick and Andrea who love water, the ocean, and swimming didn’t respond positively to the works.

Andrea remarked that the works felt scary.

I was reluctant to abandon the works entirely and so, set them aside indefinitely. Months later, I retrieved them, reworked them with subtle revisions, and reconnected with the flow of them. This time, the works received a favorable response :-)

I wondered what had changed, and realized then, that I had.

From feeling overwhelmed before, I was now coming up for air, finding breath. This shift reflected in the work. It was no longer ‘scary’ and neither was I.

Finding Gold - 2025 01 30

This piece is about searching—about looking beyond what is immediately visible and finding something deeply meaningful in the journey itself. The textures, built up in layers, hold the memory of time and movement, much like the land does. Earthy browns, deep greens, and flashes of gold emerge from the surface, revealing that even in rugged, uncertain terrain, there is treasure to be found.

Gold, to me, is more than just a color—it’s the promise of hope, of joy discovered in the quiet moments of looking forward. The horizon is not just a distant line but an invitation—an opening to something beyond where the eye can see. There’s a sense of resilience in that, in continuing to seek, to believe, to trust that light exists even in the most weathered landscapes.

Finding Home. Across Lands - 2025 01 16

Post-exhibition. Christmas. A milestone birthday. A wedding. A funeral.

And so, the children, the extended family … have all left. They’ve gone, across distant lands, to find their homes, to live their lives.

We are here. And there. Sad, but grateful.

And then. Joy returns.

Horizons of Shelter - 2025 01 09

With my heart stretched across the globe—from South Africa to Ireland and back—I find myself in a constant state of migration. Our hearts dwell in our children’s home in Ireland, yet our South African home in The Midlands holds us still. The countryside’s echo one another—lush, green, tranquil, misty, otherworldly, ancient. Like time itself, stretching in ways beyond our grasp, yet deeply known by the soul.

In 2021, before migrating to Ireland, I had the fortune of meeting two extraordinary women. They reached out, asking to visit me in my home studio. At the time, we were strangers, and life was a whirlwind—boxes stacked high, emotions tangled in the weight of leaving, the ache of change. And yet, that encounter was luminous. I spoke of my sorrow at leaving South Africa, even as my heart soared at the thought of reuniting with our children. They offered me a gift—simple yet profound: Both can be home. You can live there. And here.

That perspective has stayed with me ever since—liberating, connecting, empowering. These landscapes, these shelters on horizons, speak to that truth: Home can be here. And there.

Homeward Bound - 2025 01 06

At the time of writing this, post wedding-celebrations, I’ve been saying farewells: to my parents and my sister as they travel home to another province; to my daughter and her husband, and to my son and his wife; each traveling ‘home’ to other countries; and then saying final farewell to a dear, dear family friend, her passing to another realm after 90 years walking this earth. We’re pretty much in one way or another, bound for home. You can read my statement from the Finding Home exhibition here.

Light - 2024 09 26

We’re just a few weeks from moving into our new home and I’m considering the space I’m in right now, and things I’m grateful for.

I’ve included an ‘unintended’ image, as my camera had automatically switched to ‘selfie-mode’. I love THE LIGHT, streaming in from behind and all around me.

The intended photo, of these just completed little houses and huts on the shelf, drying. Two small works on my desk; of Africa and an umbrella-figure and dog.

My paintbrushes, that I have an abundance of and struggle to part with for even as they age, they have purpose.

The new wooden hare named Harris.

My studio space … and my palette, with my go-to-colours of Burnt Sienna, Indigo and Titanium white … earth-fire, sky-sea and light; with my treasured 38-year old palette knife; and a few birds-on-a-wire, in-progress.

Small things that bring great joy.

#grateful #joy #art #studio #light #home #paint #brushes #palette #africa

Weaving Texture - 2024 07 25

I'm working on a new mini-series in my studio. They’re still in the early stages, but I’m already in love with the texture of each piece.

Lately, I’ve been increasingly drawn to texture and have been wondering why.

The word ‘texture’ derives from late Middle English, originally denoting a woven fabric or something resembling it. It comes from the Latin word textura, meaning ‘weaving’, which in turn comes from the verb texere, meaning ‘to weave’.

Perhaps it’s this concept of ‘weaving’ that resonates with me—the idea that everything in life and nature is interwoven. The quality created by the combination of different elements in a work (and in life) fosters discovery, intrigue, and wonder.

Texture is truly wonder-filled.

Sharing a few close-ups images.

#studio #texture #weave #soul #finding #things #art #joy #discover #nature #life #wonder #mixedmedia #africa

In Between Things - 2024 06 28

In between lots of daily disruptions that have had me re-arranging, re-organizing and re-routing my time, maintaining any real routine and momentum has been a challenge. And now, with an imminent move into our new home, I’ve begun to pack and prepare.

What could have been an entirely frustrating period in this temporary, transitional space has instead, still with it’s challenges, been restorative, productive and fruitful.

Mother Teresa’s inspirational quote, “Doing small things with great love” perfectly captures the essence of this process for me. Creating postcard-sized pieces for my “Picture Postcards From Africa” collection brings me immense joy. Each small work has been made with great love.

I currently have one hundred and sixty postcards in various stages of completion.

Here are some close-up images showing the texture on a few of the cards.

Gift - 2024 03 25

Recently, Pat and I were invited to celebrate a friend’s 50th. It was deeply meaningful to be included in her special guest-list as we’re still relatively new to this community.  I had a glorious time making up the gift with wildflowers and grasses from River Goose that happened to be drying in a simple white ceramic jug in my kitchen; and we had a fabulous time celebrating with her.
 
Then, a few weeks back, I was invited to a friend’s tea-party to celebrate her birthday.  I popped a card of a recent landscape work into a frame; wrapped it in brown paper; wrote a card; bound it all with a single thread of twine repurposed from the spinach I’d bought earlier that day;  and added a single twig of lavender from my garden pot. 

I got to think about the joy of coming-together to celebrate. Perhaps we (I) don’t do it enough anymore. I mean in the simple way of things; simply getting together and being in-person. Being present. Even for ‘ordinary’ birthdays or occasions.  Post-Covid, much still seems to require effort and energy we seem not to have in abundance. Possibly too, we’ve forgotten that we can do things in simple ways without much fanfare, and that there’s good-energy to be gotten from engaging ordinarily in real-peoples-space.

Birds on a Wire, Across Hills … II - 2024 03 23

This work also from the new series I’ve been working on (where homes on hills across textured landscape fade to the distance as birds fly in the foreground). My mother commented on the previous post of the first work in this series that it’s perhaps about SOLITUDE and FREEDOM. That’s it. Solitude (in the positive sense of the concept) and Freedom, that we all want, always.