I am a primarily self-taught oil painter, and painting for me has become as much about storytelling as it is about putting an image on canvas.

I am drawn to quiet places and things that seem to carry the marks of time — old buildings, weathered boats, winter streets, empty chairs and landscapes where there is a sense of stillness and solitude. I often find myself wondering about the people who were once there, the lives they lived and the stories these places might hold.

Some of my paintings begin with reference photographs, which I use as a starting point and often change considerably as the painting develops. Others come largely from my imagination. They are places I would like to see, or perhaps places where I would simply like to be.

I think part of that comes from the world we live in today. There can be so much noise, turmoil and negativity coming at us that at times it can feel overwhelming. Painting gives me somewhere to go when I want to turn all of that off. I can create a quiet shoreline, an old cabin, an empty chair looking toward the sunset — somewhere peaceful, away from the racket, where for a little while I can simply be alone with my thoughts and be myself.

As I grow older, my paintings have naturally become more reflective. There is often a sense of remembering in my work — people who have gone, places that have changed, and moments in life that cannot be returned to. There can be longing, loneliness and sadness in that, but I don't necessarily see those feelings as dark. There can also be tremendous peace in stillness and in simply remembering.

Much of what I have learned has come through years of painting, experimenting and making mistakes. I have also been greatly influenced by the teaching of British landscape artist Michael James Smith. His online lessons have taught me a great deal about technique, colour, light and building a painting in layers. While his work is highly photorealistic, I have never tried to become a photorealist. I take what I learn and bring it into my own way of painting. I want my paintings to still feel like paintings.

The little stories that accompany the works in this gallery are an important part of all of this. Sometimes there is a deeply personal reason behind a painting; other times I simply see something that catches my eye and want to paint it. Either way, each one becomes another small part of the journey.

Taken together, these paintings tell some of my story — what I notice, what I remember, what I imagine, what I feel, and perhaps a little about where I am in life.

Thank you for taking the time to visit and to share in a little of my journey. I hope that somewhere among these paintings you find a moment of your own — a memory, a story, or simply a little peace and quiet. P. J. Cox