I once met an Orca on a mirror-glass sea in the Straits of Jura.It surfaced beside us so quietly it almost didn’t seem real. Then it took a breath and looked at me. I have never forgotten that feeling.Something vast and intelligent recognising your presence for a moment before slipping back beneath the surface. Years later, confined so much of the time by illness and isolation, I still return to that encounter when I paint.The sense that there are deeper currents moving underneath everything. Mystery. Intelligence. Wonder. This piece feels like memory to me.An Orca moving through light, through silence, through the kind of world I escape into when my own becomes too small. I paint because some part of me still needs to swim. Fine art giclée print on Hahnemühle Photo Rag 308gsm at the original size of the work, holding the scale and presence of the piece as it was made.