On a bright morning in Jersey, the tide is low and the scent of salt drifts across the air. Narrow streets lined with pale granite open suddenly onto wide horizons of sea and sky. It is here, on this island where the rhythm of the ocean sets the pace of daily life, that artist and illustrator Susan Lintell works from her studio.
Her workspace, she says, is often scattered with brushes, half-finished canvases, and sheets of paper layered with colour. A sketch of a tree might lie beside a vivid portrait, while jars of acrylic paint stand like soldiers on a shelf. There is a sense of order and chaos at once, a reflection perhaps of her way of seeing the world. “I’ve always been fascinated by shapes and colours,” she explains. “Nature, people, buildings, it has always been there, drawing me in.”
That fascination took root early. She remembers her first drawing clearly, a simple crayon tree, the kind every child attempts but which in her case marked the start of a lifelong habit of observing and translating the world onto paper. Yet her path to art was not direct. Lintell has lived many lives before committing herself fully to creativity. She served in the military, endured and overcame cancer, and carved out a professional career in marketing, eventually writing and publishing a book on the subject. Through every turn, art remained quietly in the background, a thread pulling her back to her true work.
Today, her art is instantly recognisable: clean lines, layered textures, and bold use of colour. She works most often with acrylic on canvas or mixed media on cotton paper, producing pieces that range from playful to profound. Her “Funky Zoo” series, for example, brims with humour and energy, the kind of collection that seems alive with movement. Other works, more contemplative, hint at deeper layers of memory and meaning.
The act of creating, she says, is both structured and intuitive. Inspiration often comes in sudden flashes, a shaft of light on water, a fox darting across a field, or the curve of an archway in a cathedral. From there, she develops sketches, experiments with composition, and begins building the foundations of her work. The process is tactile: broad strokes laid first, then colour, texture, and finally delicate lines of detail. Layers build until the piece feels balanced. “A painting is finished when I feel it is,” she says. “There’s no other way to describe it. It’s when everything sits where it should.”
Nature remains her greatest influence. The landscape of Jersey, with its windswept beaches, wooded lanes, and granite cliffs, provides constant renewal. Animals often appear in her work, whimsical, lively, or mysterious. People too, though never in a conventional portrait sense. Her subjects become characters, each carrying a story or a mood.
Her artistic lineage is rooted in both personal mentors and historical masters. She credits Zvi Tamir, who guided her early journey, alongside influences as varied as Abram Games with his wartime posters, Yehuda Bacon whose work carries the weight of history, and Salvador Dalí’s unmistakable surrealism. These voices echo in her art, but never overwhelm it. Lintell’s pieces remain distinctly her own, blending crisp clarity with layered storytelling.
Some works, she admits, are harder to carry than others. Images of war have held particular weight for her, combining personal experience with artistic responsibility. These pieces are testimony as much as they are art, reminders that beauty and pain often coexist. For Lintell, art is never just decoration. It must have a voice, a conscience, and a purpose.
In her studio today, a large square canvas of Ozzy Osbourne dominates the room. The portrait, still in progress, captures not just the face of the rock legend but the energy of performance itself. Layers of acrylic build into a piece that is both playful and dramatic, a reminder that she moves easily between whimsy and weight.
Inspiration, she concedes, is not always easy to summon. There are days when ideas falter, when the page stays blank. Yet she returns to the sources she knows will restore her. The woods and coastlines of Jersey, the shapes of trees against the horizon, the hum of life in streets and markets. These moments reset her, offering sparks that carry back into her studio.
What she hopes for, above all, is connection. Whether through the joy of a cheeky illustration like her “Monkey Mug” or the weight of her more serious work, she wants people to feel something personal. “To connect hearts through colour, texture and design,” she says. “That’s what matters.”
There is no grand flourish to her words, no heavy statement of artistic intent. Yet her work carries a quiet conviction. Fine art, for Susan Lintell, is a way of speaking when words are not enough. It is her means of translating a life rich with experience, from military service to recovery, from marketing strategies to moments of stillness with a sketchbook in hand, into images that linger.
For those curious to explore her creations further, her work can now be found through platforms such as Superluxe.io, a space where her vision reaches beyond the studio walls of Jersey and into the wider world.
Standing in her studio, with the sea air drifting through the window and brushes laid out ready, she seems both grounded and restless. An artist of many lives, still finding new ways to tell her story.
