Sometimes I can stare for hours at the waves made by slight movements of the boats in the marinas. They dance and curve sensuously over the surface creating the most interesting patterns and shapes. This little painting has all that and more, showing the source of all the action above. I have framed it in a Rustic Burl oak float frame. It looks fabulous.
This bold and whimsical abstraction of nautical life captures the energetic spirit of boats in motion - hulls, sails, ladders, waves, and flags all jostling together in joyful disorder. I even included a kinetic sculpture I once saw in New Plymouth, New Zealand, adding some memory of place to this piece. I invite you to sail through a world where imagination meets memory.
There’s something about boats at rest — the hush of the marina, the way time seems to slow. This painting came from memories of those quiet days when everything feels still, but full of stories. I wasn’t trying to capture one exact scene, more a feeling — of being there, soaking in the shapes, colours, and rhythms that only show themselves when you pause long enough to notice. Just a moment — but it stays with you.
I’ve always been drawn to the tangle of rigging and lines around marinas — the way masts crisscross the sky, how reflections break apart in the water. This painting is a kind of wandering through those moments, capturing the energy and shapes that catch my eye when I’m out walking the docks. There’s no map — just movement, memory, and a bit of salt air in the paint.
Every Sunday the Sunshine Coast Yacht Club race their sailboats. I can see them from my studio window. If you've been in a sailing race you'll often hear the phrase Starboard! being called out as that is the right of way position. The pre-jostling is often hectic and scary as the boats come close to collision so many times in the aim to be first over the line.
When I paint my nautical abstracts I am totally in the moment grabbing lines and shapes out of memory. The rigging, hulls, and chaos play a huge role in what I include. If you look long enough you will see the head of a captain wearing it all on his/her head. It's a reminder that, amidst the chaos, I hold the wheel. I am the captain of my ship.
This piece came together slowly — like wandering through a shipyard, stopping to take in the jumble of lines, masts, ropes, and shadows. I kept adding and scraping away, following a feeling more than a plan. It’s my way of making sense of that organized chaos I love so much in marinas — the overlapping, the noise, the rhythm. These are the bits that stick with me. The essentials.
Fragments, shapes, and gestures come together in this spare parts of a painting. Deciding which to keep or to discard becomes the game here. I wasn’t sure where it was going, but that’s what I love. Like wandering through a yard full of parts, letting your eye find unexpected connections. Somewhere in the mess, it all clicks. It’s about finding beauty in the bits and building something new from what’s been set aside.