Track changes: Acknowledgement of Country
[Image: Layered mixed media amalgam exploring Track Changes and the iterative ever-evolving nature of my Acknowledgement of Country] [Audio: Rees
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Category: Sketch #7: Towards Respectful & Informed Visitation
A collection of pieces concerned with the personal reconciliation journey I am undertaking. Many of these pieces also grapple with the complication and discomfort of inhabiting and telling stories on unceded Aboriginal land.
Landscapes of Loss
Landscapes of loss Polaroid and prose speculation.
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Remaining attuned to multiple perspectives
Attempting to remain attuned to diverse cultural perspectives helps me grasp the rhythms of this place.
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From the Ridge
The piece builds on an eariler iteration to offer a stocktake of features, associations and characteristics observed from the heath of Wreck Beach Farm. It attempts to observe the same location while also adopting a more attuned approach the features.
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The Middens of Wreck Beach
I have vivid memories of the Bunurong/Boonwurrung midden sites at Wreck Beach from when I was a kid in (the mid-1980s). At that time, two different walking paths ran from the carpark through the scrub down to the beach.
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Spanning cultural disjunctures
A speculative image/prose speculation of navigating cultural disjunctures on the Bunurong Coast.
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Shadow places and greenwashing
There are numerous shadow places on the Bunurong Coast. One need look no further than the damage wrought by more
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Collecting Samphire with JQ
Samphire is bush tucker, a native succulent also known as sea asparagus, sea beans or swamp grass. It grows on the waterway verges across southern Australia and can be found at any number of places around these parts.
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Waiting indifferently for elaboration
Evidence of the past – whether found in the landscape itself, in archival records, in people’s memories, or somewhere else – waits indifferently for elaboration. The writing and reflections of others prompts us to question, cross-examine and elaborate on the remnants of the past.
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Out of the Remembered Past
Perched atop the dunes, I watched the light of a waxing crescent moon dance on dark waters.
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