Stowaways continues the story of Jack and Jill, first introduced in essay 25, Jack and Jill. They are rascals by nature, quietly observant, always alert to opportunity. In this painting, they have found themselves at a passenger wharf, poised on the edge of a journey they may not have been invited on, but one they fully intend to take. The title suggests secrecy, mischief and possibility, and these two small dogs embody all three.
The scene is carefully staged. Luggage is stacked with purpose: trunks, cases and parcels arranged as if already approved for travel. Among them, Jack and Jill are almost hidden, peering out from their temporary shelter. They are not meant to be there, yet they belong completely. Dogs have always had a way of inserting themselves into human stories, especially those involving movement, departure and return. Here, they wait patiently, confident that time will work in their favour.
Beyond the wharf, the ship sits in the water, calm and assured. It promises escape, adventure and distance from the everyday. Passenger ships carry more than people; they carry expectations, hopes, and unspoken reasons for leaving. Jack and Jill do not need to know the destination. For them, the journey itself is enough. The sea air, unfamiliar sounds, and the gentle uncertainty of travel are already an adventure.
Colour plays a central role in this painting. The strong blues of sea and sky suggest openness and calm, offset by the warmth of the wooden deck and the rich tones of the luggage. The colours anchor the scene in a specific emotional space: anticipation without anxiety. Even the clouds feel composed, as if holding their breath before departure. The balance between warm and cool tones mirrors the tension between staying and leaving.
There is humour here, but also tenderness. Jack and Jill are small figures in a larger world of adult decisions and structured travel, yet they remain unaffected by scale or consequence. They remind us that adventure does not require permission, only curiosity. Their presence softens the formal order of the wharf, introducing a quiet rebellion against rules and schedules.
As with many works in the series, Stowaways is about thresholds. The wharf is neither land nor sea, just as Jack and Jill are neither passengers nor cargo. They exist in between, occupying a moment before motion begins. That moment is often overlooked, yet it is where imagination is most active. Once the ship departs, the story changes. Here, anything is still possible.
This painting also speaks to childhood instincts that linger into adulthood: the urge to hide, to sneak aboard, to see what lies beyond the horizon. Jack and Jill act as stand-ins for that impulse, reminding us of a time when adventure felt close at hand and consequences were distant. In Stowaways, the journey has not yet begun, but the promise of it fills the entire scene.
Oil on fine portrait linen: 95 x 125 cm; 37.4 x 49.21 in (Sold)
