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A river winds through the heart of my home city of Perth, its waters sparkling under a Tasman blue sky and hot, baking sun. A breeze rustles the paperbark trees that line and shade its banks, carrying the scent of damp soil and eucalyptus. This river is named for the black swans that live there, whose wingbeats bring music to the water. The Noongar people know it as Derbarl Yerrigan; most of us simply call it the Swan River.
The Black Swan, native to Western Australia, even appears on our state flag. These striking birds breed in the south-west and south-east of WA and in suburban waterways around Perth. I’m lucky to have a small lake near my house where a few pairs nest each spring. On my last walk, I counted 20 swans, it’s going to be an amazing spring when the cygnets arrive. Once, I saw a flock on a lake at Mellenbye Station near Yalgoo, the beginning of the outback…an unforgettable sight. Swans rely on the weather and water, so spotting them in such a remote place felt like a rare privilege.
The Black swan has been known to Aboriginal people for thousands of years. When Europeans arrived around 1697, they were surprised to find that all the swans in this extraordinary land were black—the black swan therefore became a symbol of the unexpected. For Aboriginal groups, especially the Noongar people of South West Western Australia, the bird is important in culture and Dreamtime stories. Its Noongar name is ‘maali.‘
I’ve always felt at home near water. I grew up between the Swan River and the Indian Ocean in the suburb of Cottesloe, so water has been central to my life. Some of my earliest memories include sunny afternoons by the river with picnics packed by my grandparents: sandwiches, cake, and tea. We threw bread crusts to the seagulls and swans. More recently, we walk with our own children and dogs along the riverbanks. The sight of black swans still fills me with awe.
As a child, I loved visiting the black swans at a small pond that was at Perth Airport in the 60’s, 70’s and early 80’s. Dad was an airline captain, so we visited often. I remember the heat, the wind, the smell of jet fuel, and the swans on their tiny pond. It’s only recently, I learned the pond was too small and the buildings too close, for the swans to take off and fly, unintentionally trapping them. It’s sad to realise they were stranded there by accident.
My painting, ‘Swan Song, ‘ reflects my love for home, our state’s history, and a deep sense of belonging. It shows a swan moving calmly through dark water, carrying other native birds, with native botanicals adding scent and colour. Together, they tell a story that reminds us the world is full of surprises for those who notice.
As we step into the new year (this post was originally written in January), I’m reminded that places we think we know still have fresh stories to tell. I hope Swan Song brings a sense of wonder to your year ahead, and that 2026 holds moments of joy and beauty in each day.
You can find “Swan Song’ to purchase as a print in paper or canvas, on my website here. The original was 91x91cm and is sold.
I’m now up to Letter 8 (due May 2026) of this amazing project, Letters From My Art. I couldn’t be happier you have joined me on this journey. Creating a book from my paintings has lived quietly in my heart for years—a little hope for something lasting that I can one day hand to my daughters. I’ve always had my artworks photographed with this in mind, waiting for that magical moment when it would all begin. This project has become my gentle way of moving forward—painting, writing, gathering, and slowly building the bones of a book I’ve dreamed about for so long.
Originally written as an analog, paper delivery project, I’ve decided to move my Letters to Substack moving forward and may eventually add a subscription segment for the Studio notes, mini art lessons and bookclub. Let me know if this is information you would enjoy. Keep reading and scrolling for this months recipe below.
Artwork Focus - Swan Song
Swan Song was one of my earliest explorations into what I now call my “collated paintings” — artworks built from multiple separate reference photos, imagined together into a single story. They are a labour of love, built over many, many cups of coffee, much pondering and an audible book or two.
I painted ‘Swan Song’ in 2018, and it later found a home after being exhibited at the Cossack Art Awards in regional Western Australia. The Cossack Art Awards are a highlight of the Art Prize calendar for Australian artists, held in the historic ghost town in the Pilbara region, famous for its 19 century buildings and its rich history as a key port for pearling, gold and pastoral industries. I’m yet to visit this incredible place, but I will get there one day!
Swan Song remains one of the most joyful artworks I’ve ever created. A generous 91 x 91 cm, oil on canvas, bright, bold, and unmistakably West Australian.
At the time of creating the initial sketches for this painting, I had been enjoying theelegant black swans that breed on our local lake, carrying their cygnets upon their backs. It’s such an amazing sight and I’ve read they do this to allow them rest, warmth and protection when needed. I’d also seen a photograph of a pelican, its white feathers and coloured beak reflected beautifully on dark water. Something about these two images stayed with me. and then, as I often do, I began imagining a swan reflected upon water and the other creatures that might enjoy her warmth and protection.
I wanted the birds perched on the swan’s back to be distinctly Australian. So on they flew : a kookaburra, a red-tailed black cockatoo, a pink and grey galah, a rainbow lorikeet, and a tiny fairy wren. For botanicals, I gathered some of my favourites: Silver Princess, Golden Wattle, Geraldton Wax, and a cheeky headpiece with the edition of our West Australian State emblem, the Red and Green Kangaroo Paw crowning the swan itself. The painting became a celebration of home — vibrant, colourful, and joyful — which is why, I think, it resonates so strongly with the West Australian tourist market.
Mini Art Lesson
Swan Song has been one of my most requested prints with its mass appeal to the tourist market.
There are two directions for making art and both work in partnership with the other, whether as a hobbyist or as a professional.
1.Purely artistic, painting for the joy of creation
2.Commercially, considering what will sell or appeal to a broader audience.
As a working, professional artist, I often lean toward the commercial side with certain works because, quite simply, it helps pay for paints, canvases, studio bills, and the occasional holiday! There’s no shame in wanting your art works to pay bills...you are still an artist. Some naysayers will say true artists don’t care for selling their art, but I call that delusional thinking. Beautiful, quality, archival art costs money to create whether you are making it as a hobby or not.
I am grateful that over the years, when a work has had commercial potential, I‘ve had it professionally photographed , allowing me to create prints and sometimes merchandise, and these images are now finding their way into this Letter project and my dream of a book. Most of my prints are limited editions — usually capped at either 100 or 200 — to protect the value of the original. Swan Song is about three-quarters of the way through its edition of 100, and once all are sold, it will be archived.
I don’t know where the original now lives, which is always bittersweet. There’s something magical about seeing a photo of your work hanging in someone’s home and knowing it is loved.
Art Lessons from Swan Song
This painting taught me a lot about the complexities of collated artworks. When you are combining separate reference photos, accuracy becomes both essential and tricky.
To create believable scenes:
I research the birds thoroughly.
I look at multiple photos.
I measure their scale to keep each species correctly sized.
I study male vs female markings.
I consider how flowers naturally cluster or fall in a bouquet.
I work carefully on tone and shadow, using both observation and imagination.
When I look back at Swan Song now and compare it to my newer collated pieces, I can see how much more confident I’ve become with shadowing, tonal accuracy, and blending one element into the next. Every painting teaches something new. With each one, you strengthen a skill you didn’t even realise you were building. And perhaps that’s why Swan Song has been so loved, not just by others, but by me too. It marked the beginning of a new direction in my work... one that has now become a signature part of my storytelling.
Here is an impossibly easy chocolate cake for your baking pleasure.
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