I wasn't going to release this.

Some paintings begin with intention.
This one didn’t.

It started as a simple cloud study — the kind of piece you create when you just want to experiment without the pressure of outcome. No collection in mind. No plan for where it would sit within my body of work. Just space to play.

I think every artist needs that from time to time. The freedom to create without trying to make something “fit.”

As I worked on it, a large storm cloud began forming out at sea. The tones deepened. The atmosphere shifted. Mist settled across the horizon and the whole piece began to carry a deeper feeling of finding a quiet resolve.

It wasn’t the countryside gates or paddocks I’ve been painting lately. It wasn’t rural in the traditional sense.

And initially, I wasn’t sure it aligned.

But when I stepped back and really sat with it, I realised something important.

The feeling was the same.

Finding a quiet place to go where you can take a moment to find resolve. Watching the storm build out at sea — With the sea spray and wind fresh against your skin giving you clarity. When you instinctively take a deeper breath.

It’s a pause.

A clearing.

A quiet reset.

And that is exactly what sits at the heart of my work.

It has never really been about gates, or fields, or even the countryside itself. It’s about creating pieces that offer you a moment to hear your own thoughts again. A visual space that feels like exhaling. And admittedly, for me this is usually found most in the countryside, so I was surprised this hit that spot for me too.

When I shared this piece on my socials, the reach was modest — but the response from those who saw it was incredibly warm. It felt less like a broad launch and more like a quiet understanding between a small group of people who instantly connected with it.

That felt right.

Because this painting was never meant to be mass-produced or widely promoted. It was created in a season of freedom and experimentation, and I want to honour that energy.

So I’ve chosen to release it in a very limited way.

Only five A2 prints will ever be made. They will not be restocked, resized, or reproduced beyond this small edition. Once they have found their homes, that chapter will close.

The original will also be available for the one collector who feels deeply drawn to it. It'll arrive unframed so you can choose the frame that best suits you (happy to help you choose if you need some advice) and with free shipping.

This piece feels slightly different to my usual work — and perhaps that’s what makes it so uniquely special. It represents creative trust. Letting go of overthinking. Allowing something unexpected to emerge.

And sometimes, those are the works that carry the most depth.

If this painting speaks to you — if it reminds you of that cool shift in the air before rain, or the quiet clarity that follows a storm — then perhaps it was meant to find you after all.

Print details and release information will be shared very soon.

With love,
Jay

P.S. She is still unnamed. Maybe it's not supposed to have a name. Maybe it's supposed to be simply felt instead.