I dedicate this painting to my stone age relatives who like my father (W.W.2 Pilot and a ten pound pom) along with generations of other dreamers ventured into the unknown hoping to discover a utopia but woke to a very different reality.
History and place are reliant on an anthropocentric view of the universe. History only exists in the present and the concept of place is just a mathematical probability without a consciousness to acknowledge it. Landscape needs a view point and therefore a viewer. I’ve flown over the centre several times so I am resting assured that the centre of Australia is indeed red.
The nebulous figure standing alone in the landscape is without gender; not black or white, not moulding the land but being shaped by it. The only sign of human intervention is a white flag of surrender standing in the distance.
Migration is again the big picture and asylum seekers are the extras with no lines.