Flowers of the Sea: Painting Ningaloo Reef

For years, I’ve wanted to paint the flowers of the sea. A wonderland that sits beneath the surface. An ecosystem largely untouched by us land-based creatures. To swim in wilder waters and marvel at the beauty and intricate details and stories ocean holds.

I’ve always been fascinated by the way ecosystems thrive, and before any layers of paint begin I like to become a student of the environment. This body of work became the collection now titled Flowers of the Sea. A body of work inspired by the coral gardens and magical underwater landscapes of Ningaloo Reef in Western Australia.

Each artwork explores the feeling of floating weightlessly above the reef.

Originally, I had planned to paint the Great Barrier Reef. But after speaking with a friend living in Western Australia, he suggested Ningaloo instead. It was September 2023 when he told us that the waters are shallow and beautifully clear, but that it can get quite warm up there - so the best time to travel is between May and early August. We’d just missed the season. August 2024 was the year we relocated to Victoria, and somehow we’d missed it again. Another year passed by. Then in June 2025, a beautiful collector of mine, Edwina, replied to one of my thank-you emails and mentioned that she ran a station up north called Bullara Station, situated on the Exmouth Gulf. I took it as a sign not to miss the season again.

Bullara Station, Western Australia

Bullara Station was perfect in every way. An authentic working outback station that feels true to the landscape - where the desert meets the sea. While luxury glamping coastlines are alluring, I’ve always been more interested in staying where the locals are. I think it holds a stronger connection to place.

With the station stay locked in, we booked our flights, hired a car, and we were on our way.

In anticipation and excitement of finally exploring the fringing reef of the Exmouth Gulf, I had already begun some preliminary sketches on canvas. I had a vision of how these artworks might look. Brightly coloured coral at the bottom, seaweed flowing through the middle, and ocean above. Layered almost like a fluorescent lasagne. But something felt off.

Coral at the bottom, ocean at the top - what i thought the artworks would look like.

It looked like you were looking at the reef instead of being in it. I always want my artwork to feel immersive - like stepping into the landscape it was inspired by, not observing it from afar. If you’ve ever been snorkelling you might already know where this is going.

I hadn’t taken into account the one thing that grounds all of us land-based creatures on Earth. Gravity. Experiencing the reef made it clear very quickly that my perspective was off by about ninety degrees. When you’re floating above the reef with a snorkel, most of what you see is from above - almost like a bird’s-eye view.

Close ups of Coral from a birds-eye (snorkelling) point of view

That realisation became the key to unlocking how the final compositions of this collection would look and feel. The feeling of floating weightlessly above the reef also gave me the opportunity to explore an idea I had a very long time ago.

I wanted this collection to have no clear “right way up,” as there is no right way to swim of explore the reef. It's a beautiful part of the experience of snorkelling and i really needed that to be in the artwork. Each artwork can be hung either landscape or portrait, with no fixed orientation. The intention is that the piece can move with you over the years and adapt to the spaces it lives in. Achieving this took a lot more time than expected, it was like creating two paintings in one. Balancing the weight of colour, composition and flow so the work felt natural in both orientations was a surprisingly complex process. At times it was tricky. But now that they’re finished, I’m incredibly proud that I was able to achieve it.

'The Shallows of Coral Bay' in Portrait (left) Landscape (right)

Another unexpected guide came from a coral identification book that a fisho kindly passed along to me. Designed as a waterproof field guide, it documents the species found across Ningaloo Reef and includes a colour grading chart used to correct underwater photographs once you’re back on land. Photographing coral underwater significantly alters the colours you see. Understanding this felt important, even if I later chose to interpret those colours differently as an artistic decision.

Having snorkelled internationally with bright tropical corals, I was surprised to learn that many of Australia’s native corals are actually quite neutral in tone. Browns, ochres, dusty pinks, purples, sage greens and blues - with only a few exceptions.

Experiencing the reef allowed the colour palette and direction for the collection so much clearer.

After painting land-based native flora for so long, this experience reinforced how essential immersion is to my artistic process. To see, experience and learn about the subject of my artwork allows the final piece to carry the feeling of being there. Your artistic interpretation becomes shaped by memory, photos, notes and observation. In a world that can often feel very copy-and-paste, that authenticity matters.

I think this may be why collectors often tell me that my work reminds them of places they’ve been. Perhaps on different timelines, but still somehow a memory we share.

Live Ningaloo expedition, a highlight of our trip.

Painting this collection has been challenging in ways I didn’t quite anticipate. Exmouth is a very remote part of the world, and returning to study the reef again hasn’t been possible. And with warming waters and changing climates, bleaching events have since affected parts of the reef we explored.

While painting these works, I often thought about my toddler. He’s still too little to snorkel these reefs and experience the underwater magic they hold. I’ve wondered that if the reef didn’t regenerate during his lifetime, whether it might still be a gift to him - to see it through the eyes of his mum. Because of this, there are elements of artistic interpretation in this collection that I hadn’t originally planned. But maybe that is exactly what makes them feel so personal.

Can you spot the humpback whale and her baby calf in the bottom of this picture? Never mind the jellyfish i was swimming through, haha!

My hope with this collection is that when you live with these artworks, you feel a little of that same stillness. The quiet drifting movement of the ocean, the gentle chaos of coral gardens, and the feeling of being completely immersed in nature.

Like many of my collections and essence of my artworks, I hope that over time you’ll notice new details appearing. Small shapes, colours and translucent layers that slowly reveal themselves - the way a reef reveals itself as you explore it.

Artwork 'Flowers of the Sea' being relocated on location in Flinders

This collection holds memories from Ningaloo Reef - curiosity, discovery, and the magic and awe of drifting above coral gardens. If you’ve explored these waters yourself, you may recognise pieces of that experience here. I hope my artworks reignite your memories of being free in the ocean, a daily reminder of that beauty in your everyday life. And if you haven’t, I hope these artworks offer a small window into the beauty that lives beneath the surface - and the inspiration to go on an adventure and see for yourself.

Thank you for being here and for supporting the journey of these artworks into the world, i'm forever grateful.

With love,
Steph x