These paintings began with a quiet early morning in the studio. I’d stepped outside just before sunrise, expecting that familiar golden edge of daybreak. I was facing south, watching the light touch the land when something—intuition, perhaps—made me turn around.
Behind me, the sky had exploded.
A towering display of cloud and colour had gathered where I hadn’t been looking. It carried the sunrise in its own way—fiery, layered, luminous—and for a moment, it felt like the sky itself was making a point. Not all things unfold where we expect them to. Not all beauty waits for us to be ready.
That turning back stayed with me. It became the emotional foundation for this growing series—paintings that hold the tension and tenderness of that moment. Some are still in progress, some closer to completion, but each one is shaped by that unexpected encounter: the way light can surprise you, the way colour can hold feeling, and the way we carry weather—seen and unseen—within us.
These works may eventually form part of She Who Carries Weather, but right now, they’re simply growing. Gathering colour. Gathering meaning.