Women on the Water: Lowcountry, Landscape Art, and Lucky Permit with Artist Alexandra McNeal

It’s easy to see why art and fly fishing have gone hand in hand for over a century. Time on the water, be it fresh or salt, is sensory overload in the best way possible. The sound of a stream flowing in and out of eddies, over boulders and rocks; the sight of an osprey hunting overhead; the scent of fresh pine or falling tide—it’s all breathtaking. And for some creative folks, it’s a wellspring of inspiration. 

Alexandra McNeal is one of those folks. A Lowcountry native whose life has always revolved around the coast, Alexandra often finds her muse in the places she fishes. With degrees in Wildlife Biology and Fisheries Science, she once tracked sea turtles, shorebirds, and even feral cats before turning to art full-time. Today, her work channels the marshes, fish, and tidal ecosystems she grew up exploring, bringing a biologist’s eye and an angler’s passion to every brushstroke.

In this Women on the Water conversation, Alexandra shares how science shapes her creativity, the moment fly fishing “clicked,” and why her art is as much about conservation as it is about beauty.

Growing up surrounded by the marshes of the Lowcountry, what first sparked your creative bond with coastal ecosystems?

Alexandra: Once I was old enough to fit in a life jacket, I would go out with my Dad in his boat around the marshes of St. Simon Island, Georgia. I have so many core memories with him, like seeing him catch his first Triple Tail, or throwing the cast net for shrimp and looking at all the cool creatures we would catch. That really gave me a foundation of loving how much life we have out there in the saltwater—you’d never know what you’d see or what would swim up.

Alexandra McNeal grew up fishing the marshes of St. Simon Island, Georgia. Photo courtesy of Lawson Builder.

All through middle and high school, I wasn’t much of an athlete. Sports just weren’t my thing. Instead, my parents found a local art teacher, and I learned to paint marsh landscapes and birds in her backyard outside her window. She instilled a huge passion for art and nature in me.

 

You originally earned degrees in Wildlife Biology and Fisheries Science. How did your biology career influence your choice to transition into full-time painting?

Alexandra’s love of the outdoors is apparent in her artwork.

 

Alexandra: I was just as passionate about wildlife and fisheries as I was about art, so that was why I chose the biology pathway. When I graduated from college, my first job was tracking feral cats on Jekyll Island. You don’t make a lot of money as a wildlife biologist, so I was living at home at the time and just trying to save money. I started painting and selling things on the side at local craft fairs and art festivals, mostly just prints of fish and crabs. And then I started an Etsy shop, and that took off. In 2016, I decided to go full-time with my art, and it’s been changing constantly, especially post-Covid. From 2020 to 2021, there was a huge online shopping boom, especially in the home decor space. That’s when my online print sales became my bread and butter. Things have since evolved a bit. Now, I do more licensing designs—I did a partnership with Buff, which was really cool—sell originals, and do commissions. 

 

Fishing is clearly central to your life. How has your exposure to fish and fly fishing shaped both your subject matter and artistic lens?

Photo courtesy of Kaitlyn Dobbins.

Alexandra: My work has always been coastal-leaning because of the environments I grew up in and still love, even though I’ve lived away from the coast for almost a decade now. Ever since first entering my “fly fishing era” in 2016, I’ve painted a lot more fish. And I think that’s pretty common—there seems to be a big overlap in the art community and fly fishing space. Both allow for introspection and can put you in a flow state. Fly fishing is more than landing fish—I catch a lot of creative thoughts while I’m fishing, too. 

 

Why do you think that is? What can art teach you about fly fishing, and vice versa?

Photo courtesy of Kaitlyn Dobbins.

Alexandra: I think about this a lot. Both things require you to be a really good observer. To be a good angler, you have to know what’s happening on the water—what the fish are eating, what the tides are doing, where the currents are flowing. It’s the same with art. If you’re painting a subject, you have to really see it. You have to be good at looking at the world. 

 

What message do you aim to convey about coastal conservation and stewardship through your art?

Alexandra: My hope is that when I paint the things I love, it helps other people appreciate them too. Words don’t always come easily for me, but painting communicates what I feel in a way language sometimes can’t.

For me, the first step is just getting people to pay attention. So many of us are disconnected from the natural world now. There’s even a term—plant blindness—that describes how people see vegetation as a blur of green without recognizing individual species. But when you pause and notice—Oh, this is a live oak. This is Spartina grass. This is butterfly weed—that knowledge creates a deeper connection. If people don’t even know the names of the plants around them, how can they be expected to feel passionate about protecting them?

 

What advice would you give to women interested in getting into the sport or even the art world?  

Alexandra: In general, fly fishing can be very intimidating to break into. I had the luxury of having my now husband introduce me to the sport, but I can imagine if you don’t have someone to sort of teach you more of the ropes, it would feel like a very exclusive club. And if you are a woman recreating outdoors alone, it can be intimidating to go into these outdoor spaces solo. The Chattahoochee has some amazing fishing opportunities, but as a woman recreating outdoors alone, there is always that feeling in the back of my mind that I need to be safe.

My advice is to find other women in the sport—it changes the game. If I have a girlfriend that I can call and say, “Hey, meet me at the river, we’re gonna hang out, we’re gonna laugh, and we might not catch anything,”—it makes you more bold. 

 

And don’t be afraid to be a novice at something. Especially in the world of social media, there’s this feeling that you have to be perfect at everything. No one’s posting their first drafts online. It’s okay to not paint like Monet when you’re just learning how to paint. It’s okay to have to put in 10,000 hours of practice to get through that initial period of struggle and learning. It’s fun to be bad at something for a little while—you just need to enjoy the process until it clicks. 

 

What was it like when fly fishing “clicked” for you? 

Aexandra: I think one of my favorite memories was catching my first permit on the fly. And honestly, this is a great lesson for the girlies who are just getting started, because it really is better to be lucky than good. When I caught that fish, I was not good. I’d been out there thinking, I don’t belong here. What am I doing?

I was in Mexico—my husband had gone down to Punta Allen to fish with some friends, and I joined. There was this big school of permit coming, and I was terrified, standing waist-deep in the water. I tried to cast, but it wasn’t a good cast—it just kind of puddled on the surface in front of me. But the school came through, I stripped once, came tight, and landed this incredible, beautiful permit.

That moment changed everything for me. After that, my fishing—and even my casting—improved so much, because it gave me this confidence of, you’re out here doing it. Which means you can catch fish. You don’t need to be an expert or have a perfect 100-foot cast. Sure, those things help, but just putting yourself out there, in the right situations, and putting in the work—that’s when the magical stuff happens.

 

What gear do you never leave home without? 

Alexandra: I’m not a huge gearhead. When I go out, I’ll have my rod, my net, my belt, and a fanny pack with a couple of flies, that’s about it. I like to have a little travel sketchbook and do some stuff outside at times; I’ve brought it on trips, even all the way down to Baja. It’s a really great way to help me through creative ruts. 

 

In the spirit of serious journalism, if you were a fish, what fish would you be?  

Alexandra: I think I’d definitely be a redfish! Low key, not too flashy, and most at home in southern salty waters. They’re somewhat of an introvert, but once in a flood tide, they might come out to party.

 

What about a fly? 

Alexandra: Probably a Boogle Bug, only because I love bugs and it’s fun to say.

 

Any exciting projects or collabs we should be on the lookout for? 

A Buff collab Alexandra worked on.

Alexandra: I’ve been recently trying to ground myself in the landscapes I live in now—more freshwater rivers like the Piedmont and the Blue Ridge Mountains. I always expected my art would naturally evolve as I was living up here, but I still pretty firmly enjoy painting saltwater scenes.

As for collabs, there’s an exciting project I’m working on with an outdoor brand, but that’s under wraps until 2027!

If you’re interested in checking out Alexendra’s work, click HERE.

Women on the Water: Stripers, Squid Flies, and Stewardship with Abbie Schuster 

Francesca Krempa
Francesca Krempa
Francesca Krempa is a freelance outdoor writer and editor who splits her time between New York City and Salt Lake City. She was the former commerce editor at Well+Good where she covered the latest and greatest in wellness products, but she's most passionate about recreation, conservation, and the connection between humans and the natural world. When she's not writing, you can find her wading in a stream or casting from her paddleboard, trying to make friends with the fish.

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