Viloma means against the natural flow. I think? That's what my yogi friends tell me anyway, (pass the buck complete!). On the, ooh too early, death of my husband I found myself with an excess of love. So much love was residing in my little storehouse of being. I wrote this poem after a 3 day yoga retreat, with the added fortunate surprise of some post orgasm dopamine thrown in as a creativity boost.
I dance, that's who I am. I dance to express myself and release, to be deliberate in allowing the flow. With covid 19 came the closure of many known dance spaces. I wrote this poem on arrival to a closed door, as a way to shift the discomfort that came on meeting new restrictions. So, I ran the beach, reaching the river mouth, to my own beat.
After the death of my husband, her Father, I took my 11 year old daughter on a 10 day hike on the Larapinta trail, near Alice Springs. We walked in the morning and later in the day after the afternoon sun had lost its sting. We rested in found shade during the middle of the day and shared, alternating daily, our one book and sketch pad. One day I’d read, she'd would draw, and the next day we would swop. Amelie sang to help her through the 100km journey. I wrote poetry to help me. This one I wrote of our journey.
Just like South America's Amazon, Tasmania's forests and eucalypt giants are still being clear-felled. To highlight this, Eddie Safarik and Helene Thomas joined an original Styx Rainforest guardian Graham Furness and veteran reporter Charles Wooley to see the Carbon forest that was saved as a World Heritage Reserve as well as to see the devastating clear-fell and burn operations. Our intention was to make a powerful short film slowly and gently, also to give the words, images and ideas beauty and space to breathe.
A fun, casual, roving discourse/commentary/personal essay about identity, feelings of paralysis in progressive culture and ideas on how we can move forward in a practical way, centred around conversations had during a recent visit back to Hobart to stay with Millie Rooney (I moved from Tassie to Melbourne recently). Millie holds a PhD in social geography and is co-ordinator of the Australia ReMADE Alliance. In the story, we will touch on critiques of progressive culture, ideas about how to build a productive movement, and anecdotal experiences that highlight the common ground between people with different world views. Enjoy!
The covid pandemic forced me to move back to my home state of Tasmania - a place I had not lived since my childhood. As well as the broad reflective nature that the pandemic has forced upon the world, it has sharpened my focus on my own mortality. This has enabled an inner reckoning of my childhood and this photographic series was created as a reflection on memory, yearning and acceptance.
Extinction Studies is a twelve-month durational performance in which Tasmanian artist Lucienne Rickard will undergo a daily reckoning: drawing, then erasing, a recently extinct species. Beginning each day during museum opening hours, Lucienne will draw and erase on the same paper, eventually worn thin by the marks and indents of loss. Each extinct species is sourced from the International Union for Conservation of Nature’s (IUCN) Red List of Threatened Species, the authoritative list of extinct and threatened species used by scientists globally. Extinction Studies merges art and science, a ‘study’ being both a technical art term – for a drawing or sketch done in preparation – and more generally understood as the practice of devoting time and attention to understanding a topic, which, in this case, is the process of species extinction and concerns for the future of biodiversity in the natural world. Commissioned by Detached Cultural Organisation
Food in the time of coronavirus - a lock down tale.
A woman visits her mother's home town and climbs Mount Roland to honour her mother's last wish, for her ashes to be scattered from the mountain.