Water Colour on 300 GSM paper (41 x 28 cm)
A young man turns toward me with a smile so wide and genuine it feels like sunlight breaking through clouds. His blue baseball cap sits backwards, his light blue t-shirt is casual, and his eyes crinkle at the corners the way they do when someone laughs before they’ve even decided to.
I painted this portrait when I first moved to Dunedin and was working as a part-time night support worker. The subject of the painting was a client of mine at the time. He was a young Kiwi, just a year or two younger than my eldest son. Even though there was a bit of an age difference, he took to me so well and we shared a close, genuine bond. He was going through a very difficult time back then, facing significant challenges in his life. I painted this for him as a heartfelt gift, hoping it would give him the strength and encouragement he needed to overcome those hardships.
While I almost always paint portraits in oil, I decided to use watercolour for this piece. Watercolour is a medium that does not forgive; every stroke is permanent, and every shadow is an absolute commitment. Despite the challenge, choosing watercolour allowed me to capture a level of fine detail and precision that gave me a deep, rewarding sense of accomplishment when it was finished. The effect feels effortless—his skin has warmth, his stubble has texture, and his smile has the particular quality of someone who truly means it.
What stands out most in this piece is the profound trust between us. A portrait like this requires the subject to be completely relaxed, to allow themselves to be deeply seen, and to be captured in a moment of unguarded joy. He wasn’t performing or posing for me. He was simply happy in that moment, and the painting captures that rare, unselfconscious radiance.
I let the background dissolve into soft blue-grey washes—perhaps a street, perhaps a building, it doesn’t matter. Everything secondary has been reduced to atmosphere so that his face—the smile, the eyes, the slight tilt of the head—can speak without interruption.
This is what I always strive to achieve with watercolour: to paint people the way a friend remembers them. Not too much photorealistic, not idealised, but deeply felt.