Digital collage giclee print on silver metallic rag paper, 58.5 x 82 cm, 2022

Out of the flat red earth, in pursuit of riches, white settlers created White Cliffs by mining for opals—leaving deep holes in the land and, incidentally, carving out dugouts for underground dwellings. Surviving on local lake water, they continue to search for opal-rich diggings. In summer, the surface becomes too hot to endure, and many leave until autumn or retreat below ground to live.

The red soil supports low-growing, small-leaved shrubs that cleverly disguise their needle-sharp stems beneath tiny leaves and delicate flowers.

Walking daily through this landscape gave me a new perception: no fences, no borders, no boundaries. No tarred roads, no building codes, few landmarks—just open space that reveals the red earth, white mining mounds, black holes, spiny shrubs, emus, kangaroos, and endless birdlife.

White Cliffs’ historical tip is a treasure trove of colonial consumption and waste—rivers of broken glass glitter in the sun, and middens of shattered bone china mark the remains. Plastic bags, escaping from the tip, snag on thorny bushes like wind socks fluttering above the dust.

The traditional custodians of this land, the Wandjiwalgu people, are nowhere to be seen.

This landscape demands respect for every detail. In its apparent emptiness, there is so much to see—and so much to reckon with.

I acknowledge Create NSW through West Darling Arts for the Restart Residency funding and their ongoing support.

Digital collage on brushed aluminium, 36 x 120 cm, 2022

Digital collage on brushed aluminium, 36 x 49 cm, 2022

Digital collage on brushed aluminium, 40 x 102 cm, 2021

Digital print on brushed aluminium, 46 x 80 cm edition 3, 2020

Digital print on brushed aluminium, 51 x 125 cm edition 3, 2020.

Digital print on brushed aluminium, 46 x 98 cm edition 3, 2019

…and then a whisper - Wish you were here (Scomo).

After decades of political debate and inaction around climate change, a walk through the ancient old-growth forests of Cradle Mountain delivered a quiet whisper to my mind: Wish you were here, Scomo.

This moment came before the east coast's furnace-like summer and before the global spread of COVID. Immersed in that pristine, green, moisture-rich, ancient landscape—where every microscopic and towering organism has a purpose—I felt both empowered and humbled. It was a living ecosystem buzzing with intelligence, balance, and resilience.

I delighted in walking off the boardwalk, wading through mud, each step a negotiation. Pebbles and tree roots massaged my ankles as I flexed and shifted to stay upright. It was an embodied conversation with the land—a sensory, physical connection that made the climate crisis feel all the more urgent.

Digital print on brushed aluminium, 145 x 54 cm edition 3, 2020.

Digital print on aluminium, 2020.