2016 Darker Places
Darker Places is a series of works documenting my recent journey through grief after the loss of a loved one, and the lingering effect these emotions had upon my overall well-being and the way I perceive the world. In July 2015 I had my first close encounter with death through the loss of my grandfather, unexpected despite his age. I was there, in the room, when he passed away - one of the most profound experiences of my life. It was traumatic, it was surreal, it was humbling. In some ways it was also a privilege. Perhaps it is one of the most intimate experiences you can have with someone, to be with them at what is possibly the loneliest moment in their lives. They can only go through with what must come next completely and utterly alone. It felt like a portal opened up, just for an instant, and then he was gone. And the rest of us were left wondering, questioning, confused, bewildered. Stuck in a nightmare of life-prolonging apparatus, disinfectant odours, cups of tea and hushed voices. Amidst this I witnessed someone who I'd never seen afraid of anything - in fact someone who had stubbornly cheated death a number of times - gripped by the most awful fear, in the throes of physical and mental agony, fighting all the way to the end. I remember distinctly that final breath, one last exhale - of defeat, of acceptance - we'll never know. From that moment, everything changed forever.
My grandfather had been born in Mildura, and coincidentally I was invited to The Art Vault at the end of 2015 only a couple of months after he passed away. It was my first visit to the "home country" and it was with mixed feelings that I made the journey. There were so many questions I wished I'd asked, conversations I wished I'd had, so much I still didn't know about a man who was often difficult, but who loved his family fiercely. I was in a dark place emotionally, with Christmas looming and the acute awareness of a very big absence in our lives. I discovered the apocalyptic landscape near Kings Billabong, and it seemed to reflect my state of mind. The ancient twisted trees, once huge and majestic, ravaged by salt and drought, reduced to pale corpses twisting in agony as they strove to reach an ever-receding water line. They reminded me of my grandfather in those final hours. Even in death there is a strange and terrible beauty.
These works created over 12 months are really a documentation of my journey through the grieving process. They begin with anguish and despair, darker and more intense, then move through to a more subtle and refined sorrow; from an acute pain to a gentle-yet-persistent ache. Through all of this I have become aware of something much bigger than all of us - something that we will never understand or have the answers to. There are darker places within and without that we fear to enter into, but through my drawing I have the means to explore these places and confront what cannot be put into words.