2022, Oil on Board, 27cm x 16cm

2022, Oil on Board, 27cm 16cm

2022, Oil on Board, 27cm x 16cm

2022, Oil on Board, 27cm x 16cm

2022, Oil on Board, 27cm x 16cm

2022, Oil on Board, 27cm x 16cm

2022, Oil on Board, 27cm x 16cm

2022, Oil on Board, 27cm x 16cm

I walked to Tater Du. I walked to Trevose Head. I swam to Godrevey. I stared out towards Longships. I heard stories about Wolf Rock. I sailed to St Anthonys. I drove to Pendeen. I happened upon Lizard Lights. I anchored near Smeaton Tower. I bottled out of sailing to Eddiston, and the Gribbin was almost invisible in the mist.

…It was all the wrong way round. I found a collection of postcards of lighthouses, unsent, no messages, unstamped. These postcards were the beginning of my journey. I set about visiting each one, experiencing each one. I walked, sailed and swam around them. Watched and waited until it got dark to see them switch on, each with their unique light and rhythm.

Having grown up within earshot of St Anthony’s lighthouse and with the heroic story of Grace Darling the daughter of a lighthouse keeper going out into the storm to rescue the shipwrecked sailor. The automation of lighthouses has taken an element of hope away from the beacon of light at sea. Once it meant someone was there. Now it is just a light.