Ouroboros
2014. collected decomposing plant life, linen.
Wandering on paths and the tracks of a wallaby, following smells and the squawking of chuffs.
I find fields of dandelion, and my friend the native cherry, we sit together, feel, taste and smell each other.
Scattered along these fields are shards of iron rust, marks of civilization, decaying, and absorbing once again within this land.
Along the way I collect, plant life, memories, moments, movements, and enigmatic embodied emotions, enhancing my awareness, the interconnectedness, the ness… ness.
Sitting still life and death swirl in and around me.
Walking and talking to the birds i find my way back to my nest where i bundle and stitch and stitch some more.
Oils exude themselves on my finger tips, I am transported once more. My memories encircle, and spiral, and spin, the engulfing and inside-out worming begins.
Seconds, minutes, hours, days, weeks, months, years are passing and i am still wandering, stitching, feeling, absorbing, loving, crying, living and dying.
A map is created, a direct link to the bush, to my place, of time spent searching, watching, healing and flying from microscopic worlds to far away lands.
