Wingfield’s Deities were sculpted by nature rather than being carved by human hand. The processes of weathering, freezing, thawing and erosion have “released” these monumental “sculptures of Gods.” Like a sculptor, Wingfield sees shapes and textures that are often overlooked; and she imbues her photographs with a distinct three-dimensionality. In fact, light bounces around her images as if it were moving through a three-dimensional space. It takes on a life of its own, dancing between the cracks and unveiling hidden angles. Wingfield says her practice is “a kind of pas de deux with light,” an unravelling of a “choreography with light.” “When travelling to deserts I feel that a spaciousness has been carved into my soul.” Wingfield’s use of the word “carved” embodies the sculptural quality that pervades her work. Brought to life by the elements, Deities inhabit this numinous landscape as if guarding a pathway to communicate with the divine.
 
There is no reference to any human presence in Wingfield’s photographs which is intentional. She wants to “go back to what was here before we humans appeared. All these places were here long before us.” In these uncorrupted spaces, she invites us to transcend the limitations of being human and “connect to our inner world.” As Terry Tempest Williams said, “Every pilgrimage to the desert is a pilgrimage to the self. There is no place to hide and so we are found.” For Wingfield, the silence of the desert is not about the absence of sound; it is about reconnecting with one’s inner music. Indeed, many of her photographs are a dialogue with a particular piece of music. Wingfield’s intention is to induce a discovery and sensory experience through her photographs that actives more than just the eyes; and more, even, than the five senses. Her photographs seek to animate the soul.