Seascapes, at the moment, are Claire Cansick’s main subject; they utilise thin layers of oil, diluted with various mediums, to create undulating, sensuous movement, imitating the complex facets of waves, meditative, repetitive, yet never the same. A dark depth in the foreground gives way to reflected light from brooding skies, ominous and tinged with violet, as English skies often are at dawn. These waves act as conduits for more complex ideas; skeletal forms tumble within womb like arcs, their stories unheard; faces and eyes emerge in the lustrous glossy surface; distant ships drift silently on the horizon almost merging with the sky. Myth laden shadows, tell tales of figures beyond the frame, and beyond reality; yet somehow they are tethered in the familiar. Torn between light and dark, joy and fear, inner and outer worlds, they dance and swell, becoming like rock, land, grass or cloud.