Drawing
For me drawing is inherently linked to dance. Having my feet in both art forms I can see how they are both driven by movement, intent, and energy. As dancers, we leave behind intangible trails; my drawings strive to capture these fleeting residues as visible marks. This process is in constant motion, with no definitive end—every dance and every mark are unique, both requiring my physical self, creating a beautiful, ongoing conversation. This dynamic landscape is my creative playground.
Loci
Mixed media drawings on paper
2023 - ongoing
I am fascinated by the collision of movement and drawing, and the art movement of biomorphism. I am also intrigued by the female artists from the turn of the century whose work was process driven and sat at the edge of theosophy, mediumship and spiritism. Artists such as Hilma af Klint, Georginia Houghton, Agnes Pelton, Emma Kunz, Madge Gill have all made an impact on my current explorations.
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My daily art practice is steeped in automatism.I use this approach as a way to connect to the subconscious and to remove my thinking self from the equation. I try to create a framework of actions that I have to undertake without the context of a finished work. I have several modalities I play with but my favourite of these is what I call 'dancing the trees'. It involves wandering in the paddocks, choosing a tree, responding in movement to its form, weight, texture, line, and energy, filming this process and using the resulting movements as inspiration for mark making in my studio.
These intuitive drawings are random squiggles at first but hidden forms are unearthed. Using an eraser, charcoal, or burnt driftwood, these marks become drawings in of themselves. Organic shapes arrive, energy pathways emerge, each a surprise to me as the maker, but still retaining the essence of the tree and the dance that inspired them. I see the drawings of Loci as messages from the collective unconscious, not necessarily as 'great art' but as honest pieces of communication, a notation of a language I am yet to decode.
Anatomy of a wave
Mixed media drawings on paper
Driftwood assemblage
2022/2023
Living near the ocean, I swim often and frequently find myself overwhelmed by the sheer force of water. More often than not I find myself dumped by a wave - upside down and flung about, nothing more than a bag of bones being tossed in the white water - it's pointless to fight, the force being that great, you have to just surrender. This experience seemed analogous to the overwhelm I was feeling having just moved from the city to a large rural property. My life was turned inside out and upside down, and my senses were overloaded with a flood of new information.
I took these images and feelings of overwhelm into the studio along with my desire to keep up my drawing chops and started to look at the connection between the rib cage, which contains our breath, and the structure of a wave, a constantly shifting frame that holds the raw power of the ocean. These are just some studies from the many that were created from exploring this idea.
I wanted to capture the movement,
the surge, the overwhelm,
my ribs sucking in air
before the next wave hits.
And the bird said
Mixed media drawings on paper
Digital animation of drawings
2023/2024
I am a licensed wildlife rescuer and rehabilitator with F.A.W.N.A and am surrounded by birds, both here on my property and rescues that directly come into my care. They are my passion and creative muse and represent a glimmer of the numinous, my thread to the greater unknown. They are embedded directly and intuitively into the majority of my recent work.
Ongoing practice
My ongoing practice reflects a commitment to daily exploration, with drawing at the core of my varied artistic approaches. At the heart of my work is a hunger for meaning and a desire to connect with what feels just out of reach—a determination to capture the elusive. I maintain rigor through this pursuit: constantly digging, experimenting, playing, and trying on different methods, only to fail and try again. I fall in love with the smallest marks on the page, feel the wobble of doubt, then steady myself. I walk the paddocks, dance with the trees, and return to my bush atelier to begin anew.