Under the Blue: Stone in Motion, Water in Stillness

“Water is the driving force of all nature.” — Leonardo da Vinci

Just after first light I was paddling on Middle Harbour when the sandstone cliffs beside me did something almost mischievous: they tipped themselves onto the water’s surface and stretched into a long, serrated ribbon beneath a flawless sky. The air felt utterly still, yet in the glassy reflection the cliffs seemed to drift as if they had discovered their own silent current. Watching that quiet contradiction unfold, I knew I had the heart of a new piece—one I’ve called Under the Blue.

This print is wide—ninety by one‑hundred‑forty centimetres—and the Hahnemühle canvas holds every subtle grain of rock and ripple of water. I chose the title because it places us in two worlds at once: beneath the sky’s blue canopy and beneath the mirror‑blue veil of the harbour. In that double realm, solid stone suddenly feels as fluid as the water that carries its image.

What fascinates me most is the way the eye keeps asking questions. Is the rock really sliding sideways, or is the water quietly carving it away? I think of neuroscientist Eric Kandel’s idea that meaning isn’t fixed in an artwork—it’s completed inside the viewer’s mind. Under the Blue invites that little spark of doubt, that playful negotiation between what we know and what we see.

Time, too, has a cameo here. Sandstone forms over millions of years—one patient drip at a time—yet a mirrored reflection can vanish with a single breath of wind. I love that the content nature gave me lets both tempos sit together, unhurried, under the same blue hush.

For collectors who enjoy the details: this is a giclée print on Hahnemühle High‑Quality Canvas, signed and limited to ten editions. The first one is available now at AU $2750 unframed, and if it finds a home before 31 July 2025, I’ll include a signed photograph showing the exact spot where the cliffs decided to perform their little sleight of hand.

I’d genuinely love to hear your own moments under the blue—times when a landscape seemed to move while everything else held its breath. Feel free to share in the comments, or just drop me a note.

Thanks for reading, and for stepping into this mirrored world with me.