September Windowsill

I’m often drawn to the things that end up collecting on my kitchen windowsill. It’s a kind of meeting point between my life indoors and whatever is happening outside—the changing light, the seasons, the weather. Over time, it becomes a little collection of ordinary things: glass bottles, wildflowers, bits and pieces that someone has given me, or that I’ve kept because they remind me of a particular time or place.

This painting grew out of that fascination. I wanted to capture the quiet, clear quality of September light, using muted greens, teals and soft greys. I particularly loved the way the Wild Carrot looked in the jars, its delicate, almost architectural stems appearing through the water and shadows. The clear glass, reflections and trapped light all create their own shapes and patterns.

I’m interested in the tension between the feeling of looking into a real space and the fact that, ultimately, it’s just paint on a flat board. The lines of the window give a sense of depth, while the marks and texture of the paint keep pulling the eye back to the surface.

For me, these are very ordinary things, but that’s what I like about them. A jar of flowers on a windowsill can hold a surprising amount of atmosphere and memory. They become little markers of everyday life - and of how quickly a season, a moment or a particular kind of light can pass.