May 2021 saw me packing the Landcruiser for a 1200km one way, journey to Witchelina, which is an amazing Nature Foundation SA reserve, as part of their artist in residency program. Due to Covid 19 it had been cancelled, repeated attempts meant I got there a year later than intended and on my return I was back in lockdown. This turned out to be fortuitous, because rare rain events occurred, which meant the country was slightly less arid than when I’d last seen it, and bird numbers had increased both in terms of species and numbers of individuals. There were Big Red Kangaroos with joeys in the pouch and at foot, as well as plenty of water in the few dams on the 421,000 ha (4,210 km square) property. Witchelina Station, Nature Foundation SA

The managers where incredibly wonderful, taking me to extremely remote areas of the reserve and showing me around, they made me feel very welcome and made sure I had all I needed and was ok. The later is important as it’s so wildly rugged and a tough place for even the local species to survive. So being self sufficient in a vehicle that can handle very rocky ground with deep washouts, is paramount.

The next challenge was to create a body of work about Witchelina, a big challenge as it turned out, but one well worth meeting. The obvious focus is rocks, the whole landscape is dominated by rock which has been shaped and eroded over deep time by humongous forces, the landscape is blasted by sun and wind, it’s been folded, crushed and heaved by geological forces and it is so very ancient. But my focus was on the wildlife that manages to live and sometimes thrive in such a harsh environment.

With paper on the ground, water softened and pliable so it followed the contours of the rocks beneath, I applied ink, salt and clingfilm in concert with the earth under my feet. Precious water flowed as it would during rare rain and salt absorbed leaving pigment behind, pretty much as I witnessed directly around me. Time spent camping and immersed in the landscape etched the rocks, plants and animals into my skin … sometimes literally. Birds went about their daily business, I sort of befriended a wary mixed flock of Galahs and Little Corellas, by contact calling to them, and they checked out what I was up to, keeping tabs on my whereabouts.

On arriving home to the studio, I had lots of ink stained paper and thousands of photos, mostly of birds. For the next 5 months I worked at reliving my Witchelina experience every day, and adding to those sheets of paper I’d started. Birds flew in, butterflies flitted by and plants grew over my paper.

I haven’t finished with Witchelina, it’s got well and truely under my skin. It’s a tough but mesmerising place to be, and it probably hasn’t finished with me either.