Pacific Coastal Paintings

A Palette of Blues & Greens – Pacific Coastal Paintings

I am known for working in series when I paint. Often, a series begins with four to six paintings that, when hung together, create a larger narrative. Each painting can stand on its own as a singular story, but together they reveal something more. They are connected by colour, subject matter, place and the ideas that keep returning to my work.

Over the years, I have created painting series inspired by different regions of Canada and by the places I have travelled for my art. Some began during artist residencies, while others grew from journeys to exhibit my work, speak about my practice or simply spend time immersed in a particular landscape.

I have created substantial bodies of work inspired by my residencies in Newfoundland, Banff and Yellowknife. Each place offered its own visual language, wildlife, stories and atmosphere. These experiences have become part of a much larger narrative that runs through my work: my ongoing exploration of Canadian identity, landscape and the stories we attach to the places we call home.

Painting the Pacific Coast of Vancouver Island

This year, I have turned my gaze closer to home.

I live on Vancouver Island, on the Pacific coast of British Columbia, and the ocean and wildlife surrounding me have become an increasingly important source of inspiration. My daily encounters with the West Coast landscape are finding their way into a new series of Pacific coastal paintings.

This new body of work is united by a distinctive palette of blues, greens, greys and fluorescent yellow. The colours echo the atmosphere of the Pacific coast: deep ocean blues, mossy greens, misty skies, weathered rocks and flashes of brilliant colour that appear suddenly in the landscape. These paintings are not traditional landscape paintings in the literal sense. I am more interested in capturing the feeling of the West Coast and the energy of the creatures that inhabit it. My approach combines landscape, wildlife and visual storytelling, creating paintings that sit somewhere between observation and imagination.

Guardians and Tricksters of the Salish Sea

Orca, eagle, sea lion, raven and dolphin make appearances throughout this new series. And then there is the rare white raven, inspired by an actual encounter I had on the West Coast. These animals are more than subjects for me. They become characters.

The raven, with its intelligence and mythology, has long carried associations with transformation and trickster stories. The orca has become an iconic presence in the Pacific Northwest, while the eagle occupies an equally powerful place in the visual and cultural landscape of the coast. Together, these creatures suggest a world that is alive, watchful and constantly moving. I think of these four paintings as stories of tricksters and guardians of the Salish Sea.

The Salish Sea is not simply a backdrop. It is a living presence in the work. The water connects the islands, shorelines, forests and communities of the Pacific Northwest, while the wildlife reminds us that we share this environment with creatures whose lives are deeply connected to the health of the ocean.

Pacific Coastal Paintings: A West Coast Perspective

After years of travelling across Canada to paint, it feels significant to be looking so closely at the place I call home.

These Vancouver Island paintings are rooted in my experience of the Pacific coast, but they are also part of my larger exploration of Canada. From Newfoundland to Banff, Yellowknife to Vancouver Island, I continue to collect visual stories from across the country and translate them through my own contemporary Canadian art practice.

This new palette of blues and greens is my West Coast chapter. Four paintings. Four stories. One ocean.

And somewhere within them are the creatures who watch over it, move through it and remind us that the landscape is never truly still.

Trickster in White, c. 2026 Acrylic On Canvas 18 x 36 x 1.5 in Brandy Saturley

Ultramarine Jazz, c. 2026 Acrylic On Canvas 24 x 60 x 1.5 in Brandy Saturley

Guardians of The Salish Sea, c. 2026 Acrylic On Canvas 30 x 60 x 1.5 in Brandy Saturley

Sealions Song, c. 2026 Acrylic On Canvas 30 x 60 x 1.5 in Brandy Saturley

September 10, 2026

White Raven Painting

New Paintings

The White Raven: A Painting About a West Coast Encounter

Have you ever seen a white raven? I had seen plenty of ravens before. They are such a familiar presence on the West Coast, their dark silhouettes appearing in the forest, along the shoreline, or high above the trees. But I had never seen one quite like this.

White ravens are not albino. They are leucistic, a rare genetic condition that causes a partial loss of pigmentation. Unlike albinism, leucism does not necessarily affect the colour of the eyes, which can remain blue or dark. In every other respect, these birds are ravens: highly intelligent, social and remarkably adaptable.

Opal the white raven at North Island Wildlife Recovery Centre – Summer 2026

I encountered one named Opal at the North Island Wildlife Recovery Centre in Errington, BC. Seeing her was one of those unexpected encounters that makes you stop, look twice and remember exactly where you were. A white raven is startling against the landscape. We are so accustomed to seeing ravens as black shapes moving through the West Coast forest that the sight of one with brilliant white feathers feels almost otherworldly. I knew I wanted to paint Opal, but I didn’t want to create a literal portrait of a bird in a specific location. Instead, I wanted to place her within the West Coast landscape I know so well: layered forests, distant mountains, water and drifting mist.

Misty Combers beach in Tofino, BC

Having just returned from a trip to Tofino, that landscape was still fresh in my mind, both from the experience of being there and from the photographs stored on my iPhone. I began pulling those impressions together, allowing the landscape to become less about a particular place and more about a particular feeling.

The raven moves across the painting with one enormous wing lifted, almost suspended between forest and sky. Her white feathers become a flash of light against deep greens and blues, creating a moment of contrast and surprise. For me, this painting is really about seeing something familiar in an entirely new way. There is something wonderful about finding the extraordinary within the ordinary. The West Coast is full of these moments if we are paying attention: a sudden break in the fog, light moving across the water, the silhouette of an eagle, or wildlife appearing where you least expect it.

Trickster in White, c. 2026 Acrylic On Canvas 18 x 36 x 1.5 in Brandy Saturley

A White Raven Painting

Trickster in White is part of my ongoing series of paintings about the West Coast, where I am exploring beaches, forests, mountains and the wildlife that inhabits this landscape. From sea lions and ravens to orcas and eagles, I am interested in transforming these encounters into paintings that feel more like visual stories than literal representations of place.

My West Coast palette is becoming increasingly distinctive: ultramarine blue, Phthalo green, Green Gold, Payne’s Grey and fluorescent yellow. I use these colours to heighten the landscape, simplify its forms and capture something of the atmosphere and energy of being here. Perhaps that is what painting is ultimately about for me: taking a moment that caught my attention and holding onto it long enough to see it differently.

And sometimes, it takes a white raven to make you look twice.

Trickster in White, c. 2026 Acrylic On Canvas 18 x 36 x 1.5 in Brandy Saturley

September 4, 2026

Homage to Prudence Heward

New Paintings

Dear Prudence: An Homage to Canadian Painter Prudence Heward

There are certain paintings that stay with you. This is about an homage to Prudence Heward.

For me, one of those paintings is Rollande, painted in 1929 by Canadian artist Prudence Heward. You may know it: a young woman in an apron stands in front of a farmhouse, hands on her hips, her gaze meeting the viewer with an unmistakable sense of presence. It is a striking and memorable painting, and one that I have returned to in my mind for years.

Prudence Heward was a Canadian figure painter celebrated for her bold use of colour, sculptural forms, and psychologically charged depictions of women. Working during the interwar period, she was associated with the Beaver Hall Group, was a founding member of the Canadian Group of Painters, and exhibited alongside members of the Group of Seven. Influenced by European modernism, Heward challenged conventional ideas of feminine beauty and representation, painting Canadian women as complex, self-contained figures with strength and presence.

In Rollande, it is the colour that first grabs me.

Rollande, Prudence Heward, 1929

The acid-pink apron burns against the green-gold field behind her. The woman’s direct stare, the atmospheric sky, the farmhouse and fence all create a tension that makes it difficult to simply glance at the painting and move on. The palette almost seems to vibrate. There is something simultaneously grounded and otherworldly about the figure, as though she belongs to the landscape but is also somehow separate from it.

I have been entranced by this painting for years. For a long time, I thought about creating an homage to Rollande. But an homage is not about simply recreating another artist’s painting. It is about allowing a work that has influenced you to enter your own visual language and become something new. It took me years to figure out what that might look like.

Homage to Prudence Heward: My answer is Dear Prudence.

In my version, I have painted a young blonde woman standing in a landscape inspired by Heward’s original. Her hair is being blown by the breeze and her eyes are closed, as though she is dreaming, imagining, or simply soaking up the moment. She wears a denim artist’s apron, covered in the inevitable evidence of making: paint splatters and marks from time spent in the studio. And then there is that acid pink. Rather than Heward’s pink apron, my figure wears an acid-pink T-shirt, a vivid flash of colour that vibrates against the green-gold landscape. Behind her, I have reimagined and abstracted elements of the landscape from Rollande, creating a visual conversation between Heward’s painting and my own.

Dear Prudence, 30″ x 20″, acrylic on canvas, 2026, Brandy Saturley

But Dear Prudence is not really about recreating Rollande. It is about what it means to be an artist. It is about dreaming. About having an idea before you know exactly how to make it. About vision, imagination and the willingness to step into the unknown and create something that did not exist before. The title Dear Prudence has a double meaning. It is, of course, a nod to Prudence Heward. But it is also a reference to The Beatles song “Dear Prudence,” with its invitation to come outside, open your eyes and engage with the world. That idea resonated with me.

Artists can spend enormous amounts of time in the studio, absorbed in the work, chasing an idea, solving a painting, staring at a canvas until the rest of the world seems to disappear. Sometimes we need that solitude. But sometimes we also need to step outside, look around, breathe in the day and allow ourselves to play.

Dear Prudence became my reminder of that. Come out of the studio. Open your eyes. Look at the landscape. Dream a little. Then come back and paint it. In creating this work, I am not only paying tribute to Prudence Heward, but acknowledging the way another Canadian artist’s vision can travel through time and spark something new in another artist. Nearly a century after Rollande, I find myself standing in a landscape, looking at a woman with her eyes closed, dreaming.

Dear Prudence, won’t you come out to play? This is the story of my painting, Dear Prudence.

Dear Prudence, c. 2026 Acrylic On Canvas 30 x 20 x 1.5 in Brandy Saturley

August 26, 2026

Cairns of Love

New Paintings

Painting Towers of Rock: Cairns of Love

I walk and hike a lot. It keeps me fit, but more importantly, it keeps me seeing the world.

From the coastal shores of Newfoundland to the beaches of Vancouver Island, I have put on many miles exploring Canada on foot. Walking gives me a different way of experiencing a place. I notice the small things: the shape of a rock, the way light falls across the water, a weathered piece of driftwood, or something unexpected that someone has left behind.

One thing I have encountered again and again along Canada’s coastlines and trails is the humble tower of rock.

Cairns are carefully balanced piles of stones that have been created for many different purposes and across many cultures. They can mark trails, commemorate a place or person, serve practical purposes, or simply become spontaneous works of human creativity. I often find them along beaches, where people have taken a handful of stones and transformed them into small sculptures against the landscape.

Rock Towers on the beaches of Vancouver Island

In Canada, these structures can sometimes be confused with inuksuit or inukshuk. While both involve stones, they are not interchangeable. Inuksuit are culturally significant structures traditionally created by Inuit and other Arctic Indigenous peoples, with specific purposes and meanings. The familiar human-like inukshuk has also become a widely recognized symbol associated with Canada and the North.

The structures I encounter on my walks are often much simpler. I think of them as rock towers. Perhaps because there is something irresistible about the challenge: how high can you build a tower from loose stones before gravity wins? I have seen them lining beaches where people walk every day, marking trails to lighthouses in Newfoundland, and appearing along paths in northern landscapes. Some are tiny and delicate. Others are surprisingly tall, each stone balanced precariously on the one beneath it. And there is something deeply human about that act. Someone has stopped walking long enough to build something.

Cairns of Love, c. 2026 Acrylic On Canvas 36 x 18 x 1.5 in – Brandy Saturley

Painting of rock towers – Cairns of Love

These little towers have begun appearing in my paintings, becoming another recurring symbol in my continually expanding view of Canada. They are part landscape, part sculpture and part evidence of human presence. My newest painting, Cairns of Love, features two rock towers standing side by side, constructed from stones of different shapes, colours and textures. I was drawn first to their height, but then to their individual forms and the relationship between them.

Two towers. Side by side. Perhaps that is what caught my attention most. I see these cairns as small monuments to connection. They are temporary, vulnerable and entirely dependent on balance, yet someone took the time to build them. There is affection in that gesture, whether the builder intended it or not.

For me, Cairns of Love is another way of painting what I find when I am out walking through Canada: the landscape itself, and the small traces people leave behind within it.

Another discovery. Another story. Another little piece of Canada that has found its way onto my canvas.

Paintings in progress – Brandy Saturley studio 2026

August 10, 2026

Coastal Beach Paintings

New Paintings

The Coastal Life: Beach Paintings

I grew up on the beaches of the West Coast of Canada. Laced with salt and sand, my childhood summers were long, open-ended days filled with treasure hunts along the shoreline.

The beach offered everything we needed: a place to run, build castles from sand, collect shells, and create new things from the rocks, driftwood, and treasures we discovered. The days were wonderfully exhausting. Salt air made for deep sleeps, and by the end of each day we were completely spent, ready to continue our adventures in dreams.

Our days were magical and sun-kissed, with the wind tossing our hair and shaping the waves. When the tide went out, we would walk as far as our wet sneakers would allow, following the shoreline over rippled sand and watching tiny crabs scurry beneath our feet. Every trip to the beach was an adventure, but it was also an opportunity to make something: a castle, a sculpture, a shelter, a collection of treasures arranged just so.

When I moved to Parksville, BC last year, those early memories began flooding back. Here, the beaches seem to stretch endlessly when the tide goes out, revealing a vast landscape of sand, shells, driftwood, rocks, and little discoveries. That same childlike instinct to explore and create has returned.

Piece of Mind, c. 2025 Acrylic On Canvas 30 x 30 x 1.5 in – Brandy Saturley (beach shells painting)

Now, my beach walks are often small missions. I set out looking for specific things: an unusual shell, an interesting piece of driftwood, a collection of stones, or evidence of what others have built along the shore. I photograph my finds and sometimes arrange them into temporary compositions, leaving them behind for someone else to discover.

Coastal Beach Paintings

Lately, these beach treasures have been making their way into my paintings. Cairns (towers of rocks) and floating shells. Stacks of driftwood transformed into makeshift shelters. Simple arrangements created by nature, by beachcombers, or by the passing hands of strangers. I am drawn to the evidence of human curiosity and creativity found along the shoreline. Someone has stopped to stack these rocks. Someone has gathered this driftwood. Someone has arranged these shells. Each little construction is temporary, destined to be scattered by the next tide, yet for a moment it becomes a work of art.

Beach House, c. 2025 Acrylic On Canvas 36 x 48 x 1.5 in – Brandy Saturley (beach shelter painting)

Perhaps that is what I find so compelling. The beach has always been a place of making for me. As a child, I made things from whatever I could find. Today, I make paintings from those same memories and discoveries. The materials have changed, but the impulse remains.

I am exploring these coastal themes in my newest paintings, giving shells, stones, driftwood, tides, and childhood memories a new life on canvas. They are paintings about the West Coast, but also about the instinct we carry with us to explore, collect, arrange, build, and create.

Some things, it seems, never really leave us. Sometimes they simply wash back in with the tide.

Beach shells paintings by Brandy Saturley, 2025

August 10, 2026

Painting West Coast Beaches

New Paintings

A Place to Pause: Painting West Coast Beaches

There are places that invite us to slow down. Places where time stretches with the tide and the only sound is the rhythm of the waves meeting the shore.

If you have walked the beaches of the Pacific Coast you have most certainly encountered driftwood logs scattered on the beach. These logs are like momentous sculptures carved by nature and weather. They offer places to pause along your walk, a perch over the tide.

Rooting for You captures one of those quiet moments along the coast of Vancouver Island. Weathered driftwood, sculpted by decades of wind and sea, becomes both a natural monument and a place of reflection. Perched upon its sun-bleached form, a solitary figure gazes across the water toward the distant shoreline, suspended between memory and possibility.

The painting celebrates the beauty of the Pacific coast through bold colour and simplified forms. Rich cobalt blues, soft violet skies, deep evergreen forests, and warm ochres transform an everyday beach into an iconic portrait of place. The oversized driftwood tree with sculptural roots commands the foreground, its twisting shapes telling stories of journeys across the Salish Sea before finding rest upon the beach.

Rooting for You, c. 2026 Acrylic On Canvas 30 x 30 x 1.5 in – Brandy Saturley

Like many of my landscapes, this work is less about documenting a location than capturing a feeling. It is about the restorative power of nature, the comfort of solitude, and the moments when the landscape quietly reminds us to simply be present.

For anyone who has wandered the shores of Vancouver Island, climbed upon a driftwood log, or watched the changing colours of the evening sky over the water, this painting will feel both familiar and deeply personal.

In situ: Rooting for You, c. 2026 Acrylic On Canvas 30 x 30 x 1.5 in – Brandy Saturley

This painting has a wonderful sense of quiet contemplation. The driftwood dominates the foreground, acting almost like a sculptural bridge that leads the viewer toward the solitary figure and the expansive horizon beyond. The vibrant red jacket becomes an emotional anchor, drawing the eye immediately before allowing it to wander through the cool blues, greens, and violets of the landscape. It feels distinctly West Coast while also speaking to the universal experience of seeking solitude by the sea.

July 27, 2026

Ucluelet Inspires a Painting

New Paintings

A Magical Place: Ucluelet Inspires a Painting

One of my favourite places to visit on Vancouver Island is the Wild Pacific Trail in Ucluelet. Hugging the rugged coastline, the trail offers breathtaking views of the Pacific Ocean, ancient rainforest, and weather-sculpted rock formations that have been shaped by wind and waves for thousands of years. Every bend in the trail reveals another postcard-worthy view, making it one of the most inspiring places on Canada’s west coast.

The trail itself is a remarkable community achievement. It was the vision of “Oyster Jim” Martin, who moved to Ucluelet in 1979 and dreamed of creating a public trail that would connect people to the spectacular coastline. After years of planning, fundraising, and countless hours of volunteer effort, the Wild Pacific Trail officially opened in 1999. Today, it has become one of Vancouver Island’s most treasured destinations, allowing visitors to experience the raw beauty of the Pacific while preserving the landscape for generations to come.

View from the Wild Pacific Trail – Lighthouse Loop

During one of my walks along the trail, I came upon a small rocky islet that immediately captured my imagination. Surrounded by brilliant turquoise water and crowned with resilient windswept evergreens, it possessed an almost mythical presence. It felt like a place suspended between land and sea, where time slowed and nature quietly revealed its magic. It was the kind of place that makes you stop walking, simply to stand and take it all in.

That moment became the inspiration for this painting.

Ucluelet, c. 2026 Acrylic On Canvas 36 x 48 x 1.5 in – Brandy Saturley

Ucluelet Inspires a Painting

The composition celebrates the sculptural forms of Vancouver Island’s ancient shoreline, the luminous colours of the Pacific Ocean, and the enduring strength of the coastal forest. The sweeping contours of the granite formations, simplified shapes, and saturated colours reflect not only what I saw, but also what I felt. Rather than documenting the landscape exactly as it appears, I wanted to capture the emotion of discovering a place that seemed untouched by time.

For me, Ucluelet is endlessly inspiring. Its dramatic coastline, ever-changing light, and deep connection to the Pacific Ocean continue to shape my work and remind me why I love painting the Canadian landscape. This painting is more than a portrait of a place. It is a portrait of a feeling, an invitation to pause, breathe in the salt air, and experience one of the magical corners of Canada’s west coast.

As an artist, I have spent the past two decades painting stories of Canada. Sometimes those stories are found in iconic landmarks, and sometimes they are discovered in quiet moments along a forest trail. This little rocky islet in Ucluelet is one of those places that stays with you long after you’ve left, a reminder that some of Canada’s greatest treasures are the ones waiting to be discovered just around the next bend.

Ucluelet, c. 2026 Acrylic On Canvas 36 x 48 x 1.5 in – Brandy Saturley

July 14, 2026

Painting The Salish Sea

New Paintings

A New Series Evolves – Painting The Salish Sea

If there is one constant in my work, it is this: every fourth or fifth painting seems to open a door. One image leads to another and suddenly a series is born, fuelled by fascination, repetition, and the need to stay with a subject long enough to really understand it. Painting The Salish Sea.

A new series is now unfolding in my studio. Its point of origin was a commission, a painting about sea lions on the Salish Sea. I live on the west coast, on Vancouver Island, yet I had not fully immersed my painting practice in this coastline until recently. A move from Victoria to Parksville, mid-island on the eastern shore, shifted my daily rhythm toward the tide line. Now my days are shaped by beach walks, shifting light, and close encounters with marine life.

Sealions Song Sealions Song, c. 2026 Acrylic On Canvas 30 x 60 x 1.5 in – Brandy Saturley

Not long ago, we watched a school of dolphins moving through shallow water near Qualicum Beach, briefly caught in the choreography of a low tide. Moments like this stay with me. They accumulate.

What began with sea lions and a raven has now expanded into a growing cast of coastal presences: orcas moving through deep channels, bald eagles tracking the shoreline, and dolphins racing the tide’s edge with effortless play.

Guardians of The Salish Sea, c. 2026 Acrylic On Canvas 30 x 60 x 1.5 in – Brandy Saturley

Each painting in this series carries a palette drawn from the West Coast itself, deep blues, softened greys, and sudden bursts of neon yellow sky. The compositions are held from a low vantage point, where coastal mountains and dense forest hover in the distance like quiet witnesses.

In this most recent work, Ultramarine Jazz, I have simplified and distilled form even further. Shapes become almost symbolic, pared back to their essential energy. There is a sense of flow and rhythm here, echoing the pulse of the ocean itself, unpredictable, musical, alive.

Ultramarine Jazz, c. 2026 Acrylic On Canvas 24 x 60 x 1.5 in – Brandy Saturley

The Salish Sea, Place and Myth

The Salish Sea is the inland network of coastal waters that stretches between Vancouver Island, the mainland of British Columbia, and the state of Washington. It is not a single oceanic expanse, but a living system of straits, inlets, and channels, including the Strait of Georgia, the Strait of Juan de Fuca, and Puget Sound. It is a place of constant movement where tides, wind, and freshwater rivers meet and reshape one another daily.

Long before it was named on contemporary maps, these waters were home to Indigenous nations whose relationships with the sea are foundational and ongoing. The name “Salish Sea” itself is a modern designation that honours the Coast Salish peoples whose cultures, languages, and lifeways are deeply tied to these waters.

Within these coastal traditions, the sea is not only geography but presence. It is understood as a sentient space where land, water, and spirit are interwoven. Stories of transformation, animal kinship, and ecological balance are carried through generations, often expressed through oral histories, carving, weaving, and song. Orcas, eagles, salmon, and dolphins are not simply wildlife, but beings with agency, memory, and meaning within the fabric of the world.

This layered mythology continues to echo through the region today. Even in contemporary life, there is a sense that the Salish Sea holds more than surface reality. It carries story as much as saltwater, a depth of narrative that is both ancient and immediate. For me, painting within this environment means engaging not only with its visible forms but with this deeper field of presence and meaning.

Painting in progress.

Working in Series, Painting The Salish Sea

Working in series allows the work to breathe and evolve rather than resolve too quickly. Each painting becomes a chapter rather than a conclusion, and each encounter on the shoreline offers another thread to follow. Over time, these threads weave together into something larger, a visual narrative shaped by place, memory, and repetition.

My practice has always been rooted in storytelling. I am not only painting animals, coastlines, or atmospheric moments, I am building a language of experience drawn from living within these environments. The Salish Sea becomes both subject and storyteller, holding movement, mood, and myth within its shifting surface.

In this way, each series functions like a journal of attention. It records what lingers, what returns, and what insists on being seen again. The story is never fixed. It moves like tidewater, carrying fragments of observation into new forms and new paintings.

Inside Brandy Saturley studio in Parksville, Canada – 2026

June 17, 2026

Eagle and Orcas Painting

New Paintings

Guardians of the Salish Sea: An Eagle and Orcas Painting

I paint in series. More often than not, a single painting is only the beginning of a story. Much like storyboarding for a film, I typically create four or five paintings around a particular theme or narrative. When a new idea takes hold, it often requires more than one canvas to fully express where the work is leading me.

This new painting comes on the heels of a distinctly West Coast commission I recently completed for a client. That work featured sea lions and a raven along the shoreline, capturing the spirit of the Pacific coast through a palette of blues, greens, greys, and touches of yellow. It was a painting driven by intuition and feeling, and when it was finished, I found myself reflecting on how much my West Coast home has been influencing my work.

Sealions Song, c. 2026 Acrylic On Canvas 30 x 60 x 1.5 in – Brandy Saturley

Following a recent move to Parksville, and fresh from a series of beach shell paintings, I have been spending more time immersed in the rhythms of coastal life. Typically, I spend much of the year travelling across Canada gathering inspiration, but this year has been different. The move encouraged me to slow down, settle in, and absorb my surroundings. The ocean, the shoreline, and the abundance of local wildlife have gradually seeped into my consciousness and found their way onto the canvas.

This brings me to Guardians of the Salish Sea, a painting that celebrates life on Canada’s Pacific coast. Every year, orcas and eagles make their presence known here. They are apex predators, powerful symbols of the wild, and in many ways feel like guardians of the coastline. To visitors arriving on Vancouver Island, they can seem like a welcoming committee, embodying the strength, beauty, and mystery of the region.

Chair on Contemplation in the studio – a final look before finishing – Brandy Saturley Studio

Surprisingly, despite years of painting Canadian subjects, I had never painted either eagles or orcas. It felt like the right moment to add them to my growing body of work exploring the Canadian experience. Living in Parksville has brought me closer to the natural world than ever before. Here, I am only steps away from the ocean and the constant activity of wildlife, where every walk offers the possibility of an unexpected encounter. This painting expresses those experiences and celebrates them. It carries a strong Pacific Northwest spirit, rooted in the landscape and wildlife that define Canada’s West Coast. The eagle and orcas feel less like separate subjects and more like guardians sharing the same territory, connected by the waters and skies they inhabit.

In many Indigenous cultures of the Pacific Northwest, both the eagle and the orca hold profound significance. The eagle is often associated with vision, wisdom, strength, and a connection between the earthly and spiritual worlds. The orca symbolizes family, protection, intelligence, and community. Together, they represent a balance of power and stewardship, qualities that resonate deeply within the coastal environment they call home. For me, Guardians of the Salish Sea is both a celebration of place and a reflection of a personal shift. It marks a period of slowing down, paying closer attention to my surroundings, and embracing the landscape just outside my door. As I continue to explore this new chapter of coastal living, I suspect the ocean and its inhabitants will continue to appear in my work, carrying their stories onto future canvases. The Canadian story is not only found in our cities, highways, and cultural icons. It is also written in the tides, the forests, and the creatures that have shaped this land for generations. Guardians is my tribute to that enduring connection.

Guardians of The Coast, c. 2026 Acrylic On Canvas 30 x 60 x 1.5 in – Brandy Saturley

An Eagle and Orcas Painting – Add it to your collection

Guardians of the Salish Sea captures a moment of connection between land, sea, and sky, embodying the enduring spirit of Canada’s Pacific coastline. Rich in symbolism and atmosphere, this original painting is designed to be lived with and enjoyed for years to come. If the imagery, story, and energy of the West Coast resonate with you, I invite you to view the painting and explore its details. Original works such as this become part of a collector’s own story, serving as a lasting reminder of the beauty, power, and wonder of the Canadian coast.

Guardians of The Salish Sea, c. 2026 Acrylic On Canvas 30 x 60 x 1.5 in – Brandy Saturley

June 4, 2026

Paintings of 2026

New Paintings

Rituals of Winter, Roads to Spring: Paintings of 2026

A third of the way through the year feels like the right moment to pause and take stock of what has been unfolding in the studio, these are the first paintings of 2026.

January opened in a distinctly Canadian key. Winter settled in not just outside, but inside the work itself. My focus turned to the Rocky Mountains, to the rhythm of cold days, long shadows, and the rituals that shape life in this season. I began with skiing. Not just the act, but the full experience surrounding it. The landscape, the light, the quiet exhilaration, and the social rituals that follow. Snow drapes the mountains in soft planes of pastel colour, interrupted by sharp blue shadows and crisp skies. It becomes both stage and atmosphere.

It’s An Apres Life, 2026 Acrylic On Canvas 30 x 30 x 1.5 in – Brandy Saturley

The first painting of 2026 captures a simple moment. Two hands raise glasses of Aperol Spritz in a quiet toast at the end of a day on the slopes. The vivid orange glows against a sweeping alpine backdrop. In the distance, a lone skier cuts across the white expanse, the last movement before stillness takes over. It is a painting about balance. Effort and rest. Cold air and warmth. Solitude and shared experience. A small human gesture set against something vast.

This thread carried forward into works like Double the Swish and Bottoms Up, which continue to explore the culture of the mountain. These are not just images of skiing, but of the stories that unfold around it.

Double The Swish, acrylic on canvas, 30 x 30 x 1.5 inches – Brandy Saturley

Another painting shifts the focus slightly. A couple stands before a snow-covered peak beneath an electric blue sky. Their toques are pulled low, obscuring their eyes, just as they lean in to kiss. It is playful, intimate, and slightly anonymous. A universal moment held within a distinctly Canadian setting.

Blind Love, c. 2026 Acrylic On Canvas 30 x 30 x 1.5 in – Brandy Saturley

Paintings of 2026: Hockey Stories

From there, the work moved naturally into hockey.

Outdoor hockey, specifically. The kind played on frozen ponds rather than inside arenas. The kind that belongs as much to memory as it does to sport.

In Pushing the Puck, three players surge across the ice in a tightly wound moment of play. At the centre, a skater in a red plaid jacket leans forward with intent, flanked by opponents in blue and white jerseys. The mix of outdoor clothing and traditional uniforms blurs the line between formal sport and improvised game.

The painting is about movement and rhythm, but also about familiarity. Hockey here is not spectacle. It is lived experience. A shared language shaped by winter, community, and repetition.

Pushing the Puck, c. 2026 Acrylic On Canvas 30 x 30 x 1.5 in – Brandy Saturley

That idea expands in Toronto Winter. A lone figure stands on a frozen expanse, poised before taking a shot. The CN Tower rises quietly in the distance, its presence unmistakable but subdued. The skater’s back is turned, drawing the viewer into a private, almost meditative moment.

This is not the roar of a crowd. It is the quiet focus of being alone on the ice. The city feels both near and distant, suggesting a tension between urban life and personal escape. The bold red jacket grounds the composition, a human pulse against the stillness of blue and white.

Toronto Winter, c. 2026 Acrylic On Canvas 30 x 30 x 1.5 in – Brandy Saturley

As winter gave way to spring, the work began to shift.

A commissioned painting introduced new elements. A beach, puffins, herons, a cottage, and distant islands. The imagery opened outward, moving from enclosed winter scenes into broader coastal spaces.

This transition led into Gateway to The World. Three figures stand at the edge of a vast ocean, looking outward toward a line of snow-capped mountains. The water stretches into a deep, contemplative blue, broken by fragments of ice. The scene feels both expansive and introspective, as if the figures are standing at the threshold of something unknown yet familiar.

Gateway to The World, c. 2026 Acrylic On Canvas 18 x 48 x 1.5 in – Brandy Saturley

At the same time, I returned to my ongoing series of interventions into Canadian art history. These works engage directly with painters such as Lawren Harris and Emily Carr, not simply as homage, but as a way of entering the conversation they began.

In The Red We Carry, I step into a landscape inspired by Emily Carr’s Indian Church. This is not a reproduction, but a re-entry. A contemporary body placed within a historic visual language. The work becomes layered, holding past and present in the same frame.

The Red We Carry, c. 2026 Acrylic On Canvas 30 x 30 x 1.5 in – Brandy Saturley

It asks how identity is shaped over time, how histories remain embedded in place, and how the landscape continues to carry these narratives forward.

Now, moving into the next phase of the year, I am beginning a new commissioned work focused on the West Coast. Looking back at the past few months, there is a clear sense of movement. From mountains to ice, from cities to shorelines.

Each painting feels like a waypoint. Together, they form a larger journey that continues to unfold. Enjoy more paintings here.

April 30, 2026