A Thousand Words

I've visited a lot of galleries over the years, but one painting truly stopped me in my tracks: Shade and Darkness – The Evening of the Deluge by Turner.

You can find it at Tate Britain, in a room filled with his moody, swirling seascapes. At first glance, this one seemed similar—grey, stormy, atmospheric. But in that moment, during a time when life wasn’t going well, it hit me deeply.

I’ve had songs resonate before—take you straight back to a moment, bring tears, joy, comfort. But I’d never experienced that with a painting. This one felt like my emotional, a dark grey storm that swirls through most of the frame, like being caught inside something overwhelming—an emotional deluge.

What struck me was the tension in the painting: is the light going to break through, or will the darkness win? It felt like my exact internal battle. That not-knowing. That hope-against-hope. The painting didn’t offer certainty, but it held the struggle. And in that moment, that was enough.

That’s the power of art. It bypasses logic and speaks straight to that “below-the-neck” place. It just feels right when it resonates.

Strangely, the only other image that’s had a similar impact came from somewhere very different: a vintage market in Greenwich. A little painting, probably from the 1950s, of a toddler holding a seashell to her ear. Big brown eyes, soft colours, a quiet curiosity.

I bought it immediately.

It reminded me of who I am at my core—a curious person, always asking questions, always listening closely. That painting is so simple, but it’s a powerful reminder of childlike wonder and the importance of staying open, no matter how stormy things get.

Looking back, I realise both images are connected by the sea. One is chaos. One is curiosity. One is about surviving the storm. The other, listening for something deeper in the stillness.

They’re now my two favourite images—and for very different reasons.

You don’t need to find a masterpiece for something to move you. Sometimes, the most meaningful pieces come when and where you least expect them.

That's why when I run peer action circles, I often use images as a check-in exercise. Sometimes things are going on that are hard to articulate. An image can do a lot of the heavy lifting for us to convey what needs to be said, and hold some of that emotion for us. After all, an image paints a thousand words.