Sunday, September 7, 2014


She walks these hills in a long black veil
She visits my grave when the night winds wail
Nobody knows, nobody sees
Nobody knows but me ... *

My work responds to serious current environmental events, while being deeply engaged with the history of the photographic medium.

Using a base layer of camera-less photographs (made not taken), I have employed various historical techniques and approaches, particularly collage and embossing, connecting  to the expansive lineage of the European movements of Surrealist art, by utilising Dadaist strategies of play and free association. A recent collaboration with printmaker Rosalind Atkins extends this approach.

My work portrays ecological circumstances where containment is breached – as with the disasters of Fukashima and Hazelwood – and the many particulate things that fall: dust, pollen, sand, carbon, snow.

'Long Black Veil' evokes the pall of smoke that engulfed and stifled Morwell during the recent pit fire and draws a parallel with the overflow of contaminated water at the Fukashima nuclear plant, acknowledging the grief and mourning experienced by communities effected by such calamitous events.

Bringing together my accumulated knowledge of European visual arts traditions, with the immediacy of personal experiences in the Latrobe Valley and Japan, These multilayered works reflect my desire to champion and encourage human sensitivity toward the environment.

* Long Black Veil is a 1959 country ballad, written by Danny Dill and Marijohn Wilkin and originally recorded by Lefty Frizzell.

Tuesday, January 28, 2014


Postcards from Japan (4 images) 2013
Gelatin Silver Photogram, pencil and acrylic.

5.6 cm h x 10.5 cm w

1.      kanjiru         - to feel, sense

2.      tsukeru           - to turn on, light

3.      koboreru         - to spill, overflow

4.      uketoru           - to receive, accept

Monday, November 19, 2012


Three new works from the current project. 
A set of personal shields for protection of soft places.
A specific tool to enable  travel through difficult places.  
Giving external structure to the body,  making it stronger. 
Partly Cancerian shell, part talismanic mask
these shields are customised to a particular threat.

Sunday, August 12, 2012

Photographic Abstractions

I am pleased that my work 'flip' has been included in this interesting exhibition,
currently on at the Monash Gallery of Art

Friday 3 August – Sunday 30 September 2012
Monash Gallery of Art 860 Ferntree Gully Road, Wheelers Hill Opening: Saturday 4 August, 3 – 5pm

flip - from the series love letters
gelatin silver photogram 
30.5 x 40.6 cm

Wednesday, October 19, 2011


I've been in the work zone since I last wrote here - I've made the work for my upcoming exhibition 'nervousSYSTEM' @ Gallerysmith in North Melbourne Nov 10 - Dec 10 2011.
Here is my artist statement to go with this work:

This past winter found me in a frightening place. My own body, the bodies of others, even landscapes I treasure – under attack; Illness, injury, the threat of death. Events demonstrated that eventual confrontation with tragedy is inescapable. Tragedy is essentially a part of life, just as predation belongs in life. 

My artists’ task then was to find visual equivalence for the experience inside my body; the nuanced throb of adrenaline and fright, pulsing into the tiniest branches of my nervous system, a deep primal anxiety of annihilation persisting in my psyche and expressed as the surge and flutter of hair triggered impulses- escape! survive!

Making the work, I've understood how important, how truly vital is the art of metaphor. The act of creating these images, of taking dried up twigs and desiccated straw and forming them into pictures, has made a space for fear in my life. I found myself shifting into a new acceptance of its presence.

And witnessing the delicate and responsive light sensitivity of the paper I soften and find compassion for the depth of my feelings, accept that sensitivity must amplify sorrow, and I hear how the heart calls for a willing vulnerability and the courage to feel.

As this process metaphorically revitalised the plants, so my feelings have been transformed.

I've learned how, under cover of darkness, hope grows back, forging its way through tiny capillaries, and developing tender new roots.

titles in order below