Edge Of The Garden

Edge Of The Garden 

These night visions emerge as apparitions found at the edges of the garden, between dusk and dawn, as though of an alternate dream world. During the period of Covid isolation, I spent several months making wearable sculptures and photographing members of my family on the property I grew up on. More than simply adornment or even protection, each sculpture  is an apparatus, designed to interact with the body. The wearables were produced from materials found on the property, including objects from my past such as old sportswear, dance costumes, curtains, carpets, knives and flowers. The process of inventing, wearing and performing for the camera reveals a central part of my childhood growing up in rural NSW, where boredom was a constant threat and entertainment found its outlets in Easter hat parades, dance eisteddfods, nativity scenes and home-made music videos.

Edge of the garden both un-earths a family history, at the same time re-earthing that history to my familial (and familiar) environment anew. Boxing gloves become terrariums, and crutches turn into limbs. The resulting imagery lives in the realm of the uncanny, existing between places and times; between vision and blindness, real and imagined, unease and rest. Like animals in headlights, or indeed backyard nocturnal critters exposed by torchlight, my family are re-posed as strange spirits of the unconscious, shape shifters in transition, jewels in the night.