To me, each landscape presents death and life not apart or as opposites, but close to each other, in an incredible tension. Close enough to breathe on each other…or choke each other. So much despair. So much hope. Side by side. Nothing if not both. In each landscape I see reminders of our own mortality. In this way, every landscape is memento mori. However, the landscape presents us with promises of regeneration and re-birth. For all that is desolate and decaying, there is always hope of restoration. For all that is lost and broken, there is always hope for reconciliation.
Hope follows lament.
The colours are like flesh and bone. It's an anatomy we know- intimately. The gum trees are like bones stretched skyward.
There are regrets buried here. Stories ancient and recent. The landscape never fails to remind me what matters most.