Listening, twitching
2020

Fayr 2020
oil and acrylic on linen
900 x 900mm
Fayr 2020
oil and acrylic on linen
900 x 900mm

O.O. 2020 oil and acrylic on linen
500 x 500mm
O.O. 2020
oil and acrylic on linen
500 x 500mm

O.V. 2019
oil and acrylic on linen
500 x 500mm
O.V. 2019
oil and acrylic on linen
500 x 500mm

W.W. 2020
oil and acrylic on linen
500 x 500mm
W.W. 2020
oil and acrylic on linen
500 x 500mm

W.I. 2019 oil and acrylic on linen
500 x 500mm
W.I. 2019
oil and acrylic on linen
500 x 500mm

Ray-Jeh. 2020
oil and acrylic on linen 1000 x 1000mm
Ray-Jeh. 2020
oil and acrylic on linen
1000 x 1000mm

I.W. 2020
oil and acrylic on linen
500 x 500mm
I.W. 2020
oil and acrylic on linen
500 x 500mm

Her soul yearned out of her eyeballs, 2020 plaster, paper, paper clay, pigment and linen 470 x 690 x 690mm
Her soul yearned out of her eyeballs, 2020
plaster, paper, paper clay, pigment and linen
470 x 690 x 690mm

Listening twitching, installation
Listening twitching, installation

Group therapy, 2020 plaster, pigment and paper mache
880 x 450 x 430mm
Group therapy, 2020
plaster, pigment and paper mache
880 x 450 x 430mm

Peachtheif, 2020 oil and acrylic on linen 1000 x 900
Peachtheif, 2020
oil and acrylic on linen
1000 x 900

A Holotype Heart
2018

Well/Bell, 2018
oil on linen, encaustic on plywood
600 x 600mm
Well/Bell, 2018
oil on linen, encaustic on plywood
600 x 600mm
A Holotype Heart, 2018
Hopkinson Mossman, Wellington
A Holotype Heart, 2018
Hopkinson Mossman, Wellington
A Holotype Heart, 2018
Hopkinson Mossman, Wellington
A Holotype Heart, 2018
Hopkinson Mossman, Wellington
Xin Yang, 2018
oil on linen
1000 x 800mm
Xin Yang, 2018
oil on linen
1000 x 800mm
Serenity, 2018
oil on linen
1100 x 900mm
Serenity, 2018
oil on linen
1100 x 900mm
Wheat/Faith, 2018
oil on linen
600 x 600mm
Wheat/Faith, 2018
oil on linen
600 x 600mm
Stone tone one, 2018
oil on linen
600 x 600mm
Stone tone one, 2018
oil on linen
600 x 600mm
Justice, 2018
oil on linen
500 x 500mm
Justice, 2018
oil on linen
500 x 500mm
Graze, 2018
oil on linen
600 x 600mm
Graze, 2018
oil on linen
600 x 600mm
H.H. Frond, 2018
oil pastel, acrylic, paper clay, custom frame
670 x 550mm
H.H. Frond, 2018
oil pastel, acrylic, paper clay, custom frame
670 x 550mm
H.H.Froth, 2018
oil pastel, acrylic, custom frame
660 x 540mm
H.H.Froth, 2018
oil pastel, acrylic, custom frame
660 x 540mm
E.M.R.B., 2018
paper clay, plaster, pastel, acrylic
360 x 360 x 270mm
E.M.R.B., 2018
paper clay, plaster, pastel, acrylic
360 x 360 x 270mm

Folded Eyes
2017

Folded Eyes, 2017
Hopkinson Mossman, Auckland
Folded Eyes, 2017
Hopkinson Mossman, Auckland
Lalara, 2017
oil on linen
1000 x 800mm
Lalara, 2017
oil on linen
1000 x 800mm
Karl, 2017
oil on linen
600 x 600mm
Karl, 2017
oil on linen
600 x 600mm
Pleer, 2017
oil on linen
1200 x 1200mm
Pleer, 2017
oil on linen
1200 x 1200mm
Fay, 2017
oil on linen
500 x 500mm
Fay, 2017
oil on linen
500 x 500mm
Ain, 2017
oil on linen
500 x 500mm
Ain, 2017
oil on linen
500 x 500mm
Juy, 2017
oil on linen
500 x 500mm
Juy, 2017
oil on linen
500 x 500mm
Fer-Vaa, 2017
oil on linen
1200 x 1000mm
Fer-Vaa, 2017
oil on linen
1200 x 1000mm

Progress

I can see that every breath you take requires your entire body’s effort
so precariously porous, and precipitous, so amphibious
I’m watching you, like a hawk, like I have a camera
the air is rushing through our ears as if the ocean was upon us and
together we laugh helplessly in our embrace and you say:
through moist tears, as you scan your surface,
“Do you love me in this lungless form?”
and I say reassuringly, “Yes. After all, I’m not specific.”

The trouble with metamorphosis is that we don’t recognise our children.

I consider myself to be relatively compatible with technology
and my language of choice has evolved into a series of positive and negative moments
this of course suggests some vestigial notion of bipedality from which I have journeyed
I’m (like) down on my knees thanking mother earth softly for this gift of locomotion
it’s hard to contain this yearning for parallel stories….
Disrupting my contemplation, a crowd appears, running in my direction
“You don’t belong to me!”, I shout indignantly
I log out murmuring, “thank God for computers”

The trouble with metamorphosis is that we must make peace with the losses and gains.

I know that in one year’s time I will spontaneously shed another layer of skin
and I need to be prepared to shake it off and walk away, physically
the certainty of my biological processes makes me look upwards
for familiar stars, planets visible to the naked eye, and impending black holes
so encouraging are the signs of a cosmic battle involving muscled forearms
and complicated heroines doing their best to upend the order of things
despite everything, I’m sympathetic for all the satellites in each other’s faces right now
I say this out loud just to start up a dialogue.

~