Corrigated Sheds
The wind whirls across the rusty sheets of iron playing around the hewn timber posts, standing like sentinels guarding the sacred space from the spiky spinifex tussocks.Its a game of survival out here in the Pilbarra.
We, the Little Band of Heroes
Rusty Sheds are relief from the heat of the day so we can work in relative comfort.
The Artists Work is Just Living
To be free to create in whatever is your medium is an inalienable right of all humans.
Just do it.
I am a newcomer to this Ancient Land
I view the landscape as through a restricted window however I try this is as far as I can go.
Rusty Ruins
Remnants of occupation lay scattered, half buried and corroded falling back into the earth from where they came.
Their Presence still resides amid the Ruins
Bits of constructed ruin, monuments to pioneers hopes and initiative that fall into despair.
'Work is Love made Visible' said Kahlil Gibran
Work is not work but creativity flourishing in play.
The Homestead Where We Camped
The iconic Australian homestead with header tanks and walled verandahs, one shady peppercorn tree and washing on the line.
Chiaroscuro and Classic Geometry
The strong light of the Pilbara creates deep shadow dreaming in the hidden and empty spaces of the soul.
Dung Circle
To celebrate the journey's end I built a dung circle and created a ritual burning in honour of our hosts at Yarrie Station.
The Skull in the Dung Circle
In the south, the circle, the skulls returns everything to the earth to be reborn in the centre, as the tree, who branches reach into the sky, bringing earth and sky together in divine union.
Night Magic.
Dramatic Light comes from dense, black blackness here in the Pilbara. That warm July night seem so far away.
Spinifex Dreaming.
The fierce heat of the day is captured in the spiky fierce grass raging from the red sand.
Grass Heads and Rocks and Sky
Grass Heads break across the landscape giving soft relief from the red earth and constant blue sky.
Morning Light
Then sun rises over the spinifex as I peer out of my tent to greet the day.
Under the Eucalyptus
Rare and white Eucalyptus Tree in the sparse landscape.
A Rock.
How old is this rock? it sits alone and why? What has it seen and heard whispered on the eons of time.
Good Strong Boots were my friend in the Pilbara to guard against burning orange sand...
