Swirling. Falling. Letting go. Limbs tumble and submerge inside the mystical Tidal River on Yiruk Wamoon, the land of the Boonwurrung, Bunurong and Gunaikurnai people. Angelic beings emerge from below, disappear and then resurface with new awareness.
Their translucent, glimmering skin is alive with a curvaceous beauty, concealed and revealed in an endless cycle of shimmering stardust, a tempestuous storm catapulting and sinking, falling and rising.
Troubling and foreboding, these divine figures glisten under the golden sun, bold and unafraid, swirling in harmony with the heaving currents, perhaps sensing an unknown fate. Reflections of light unify their intertwined sculptural poses. The intensity of a young woman’s face is revealed. Emboldened by a feeling of belonging, her body is united with the flowing water that surrounds her. Resistance gives way to acceptance as she embraces its dark and murky depths.
The light falls.
These women are sensual and disarming gatekeepers. Rulers of the underworld, dancing an ancient ritual in the day's playful hours. The whirlpool's silent brooding surge is imbued with unease, yet the figures are empowered, not resistant. They are nature, not separate from it.
Their translucent, glimmering skin is alive with a curvaceous beauty, concealed and revealed in an endless cycle of shimmering stardust, a tempestuous storm catapulting and sinking, falling and rising.
Troubling and foreboding, these divine figures glisten under the golden sun, bold and unafraid, swirling in harmony with the heaving currents, perhaps sensing an unknown fate. Reflections of light unify their intertwined sculptural poses. The intensity of a young woman’s face is revealed. Emboldened by a feeling of belonging, her body is united with the flowing water that surrounds her. Resistance gives way to acceptance as she embraces its dark and murky depths.
The light falls.
These women are sensual and disarming gatekeepers. Rulers of the underworld, dancing an ancient ritual in the day's playful hours. The whirlpool's silent brooding surge is imbued with unease, yet the figures are empowered, not resistant. They are nature, not separate from it.
Pay Attention to the Heavens’ is inspired by the iconography of ancient Greek and Roman mythology, its folklore, and its religious paintings, recasting the contemporary woman as a powerful goddess of nature and a portrayal of femininity that we should celebrate, embrace and worship.
God-like enigmatic female figures are submerged within a dramatic watery cloud-scape, blurring the lines between heaven and earth, between what we feel, and sense we may have lost within the walls of the Patriarchy. Portraying the existential dualities of light and dark, they transverse through a portal into an unknown time of fear and discomfort, longing for a deeper connection.
Inside one’s belly lies an unborn child, symbolic of fertility and the spirit of woman, the mother, a life bearer and giver of an emblem of divinity. A womb within a womb, a galaxy within a galaxy. The birth of the first galaxy gives birth to everything else.
Luminous skin bejewelled in shining beads, draped in gold embellished fabrics that cling to their torsos, symbolise both strength and beauty, softness and fragility of the female. Bronze is reminiscent of the noble metals of ancient warriors’ armour, or a flame-like deity floating above an ember-filled sky.
Dishevelled red hair trails through ominous waters like raging blooms of algae and long locks appear like a plume of black smoke symbolising untethered femininity, powerful and dangerous. A shroud of veiled gold, winged garments entangling their bodies, and evocative gestures of their hands empower rather than bind these symbols of defiance and wonder.
The unsettling maelstroms in which these figures tumble and swirl into the vortex are their refuge, perhaps a pathway to enlightenment. They are immersed in the storm, the circularity flowing through all life, not separate or removed but intrinsically interconnected.
God-like enigmatic female figures are submerged within a dramatic watery cloud-scape, blurring the lines between heaven and earth, between what we feel, and sense we may have lost within the walls of the Patriarchy. Portraying the existential dualities of light and dark, they transverse through a portal into an unknown time of fear and discomfort, longing for a deeper connection.
Inside one’s belly lies an unborn child, symbolic of fertility and the spirit of woman, the mother, a life bearer and giver of an emblem of divinity. A womb within a womb, a galaxy within a galaxy. The birth of the first galaxy gives birth to everything else.
Luminous skin bejewelled in shining beads, draped in gold embellished fabrics that cling to their torsos, symbolise both strength and beauty, softness and fragility of the female. Bronze is reminiscent of the noble metals of ancient warriors’ armour, or a flame-like deity floating above an ember-filled sky.
Dishevelled red hair trails through ominous waters like raging blooms of algae and long locks appear like a plume of black smoke symbolising untethered femininity, powerful and dangerous. A shroud of veiled gold, winged garments entangling their bodies, and evocative gestures of their hands empower rather than bind these symbols of defiance and wonder.
The unsettling maelstroms in which these figures tumble and swirl into the vortex are their refuge, perhaps a pathway to enlightenment. They are immersed in the storm, the circularity flowing through all life, not separate or removed but intrinsically interconnected.
