Thursday, November 6, 2014


Latitude Exhibition
Barossa Regional Gallery

South Australia

26 November 2014 to 19 January 2015

Like most Australians I live on the coastal plains of our continent.
 Rainfall and fertile soil create dense populations of both people and vegetation. 

But my childhood was spent in other regions.
 Places where the flat endless horizon seemed to mark the edge of the earth, and red, yellow and purple rocky hills and mountains showed their aged and rugged faces to the warm sun, their ridgelines dotted randomly by singular tree forms.
 Sparse and mohawk like, these tree elders of the interior stand as strong and silent sentinels keeping watch over the ancient lands below

. They map the boundaries of the arid lands, the dry lands, the less hospitable lands and the stories of travels etched deeply into my childhood heart.

16 pieces in total  
approx 3.5 cm X 3.5 cm each
fabricated and etched 
sterling silver and copper

i lived in Cloncurry for a short time
in the copper fields
and often travelled the road from there to Mt Isa
in the back seat of the Holden

these pieces are most reminiscent of those days

Saturday, September 27, 2014


its been a joan baez weekend
my friend from the north
sent me 3 cds of hers
and they have been on high rotation here at home

when i was younger i found joan a little too serious
her voice a little too
something ....

i think she sings for me

the title track of one of those albums
about bob dylan
is a glorious thing to watch on u tube

they were both so young then
kids really


those words ....

then this

a song
here performed by the writer
is on one of these albums

kath and i used to sing this when we were in our 20's
was a good tune
i did harmony line

more than 30 years later it has much deeper resonance

do you know Tumbleweed ?
Jessie ?
Stranger in my Place ?

so many tunes

joan has been described as a great interpreter of tunes

she and eva cassidy


Wednesday, September 17, 2014

Tuesday, September 16, 2014

into the desert



the desert
pries you open with a rusty can opener
peel you back
split flat 
under the baking sun
the whistling wind as soundtrack
the red earth ...
at once
be filled  
with the enormous expanse
that is not empty

not ever empty 

soundtrack for a roadtrip 


Monday, September 15, 2014

arid lands botanic gardens sculpture festival


roz hawker 2014 

The festival's title ‘Life on the Edge’ invokes an image of a life lived apart, by choice, by birth heritage, through need for wonder and need for wander, as a search for understanding of the new world, or worlds within.
I propose to construct the memory of such a life; a rudimentary camp, long since deserted, a reminder of such a voyage to the ecotone.
Created by hand with tools of our forebears I will use sapling and twine, cloth and stone, paper and text to pay homage to a simple life of long ago, an observatory for experiencing the stars, the long shadows and the journey internal.

Sunday, September 7, 2014

one more page from the book of life

i made this last year
somewhere between driving into the hospital and back every single day
it so summed up how i felt at that time 

every plan
every view of the future
i thought i had 

today i am thinking that another in that series would look quite different
it would be kinder
have more acceptance
focus on other things
and most of 
show what i now know
 to be 

life is not any more certain than then
whose is ?
really ?

thatz my feet in socks my mother knitted, while trying to capture images of cloth from above, added here for light relief
oooo and my aunts dresser and stitched cloth

creating the website has also brought clarity
and i thank all those who commented

each comment brought reflection and an adjustment

creating a website has been a little like
looking in the mirror and checking that my insides are showing correctly on my outsides

it has also allowed me to think about what i have made and do make

it allowed me to recognise what the things i make mean to me
and to write this on the cloths page of my website

Of all the work i have made , the stitching i have always held on to. I still own every piece I have worked on. 

I suppose I have held it so closely for so many many hours, more hours than I could count. 
And it has watched the many many thoughts run across my mind.
Many reflections. Many wonderings.
Many wanderings.
 It has been my witness.


i am working on some new things for a combined exhibition next year
a metal piece 
a cloth

 the cloth piece is actually featured on the home page of my website

there are hours and hours more time to spend with this
and i know the outcome is something i will treasure
it will be so close to my thoughts and my prayers

it too will be my witness 


Friday, September 5, 2014

touch down

been north
  central north
halfway to the top north
by the sea

Truly, we live with mysteries too marvelous
    to be understood.

How grass can be nourishing in the 
    mouths of the lambs.
How rivers and stones are forever
    in allegiance with gravity
        while we ourselves dream of rising.
How two hands touch and the bonds will
    never be broken.
How people come, from delight or the
    scars of damage,
to the comfort of a poem.

Let me keep my distance, always, from those
    who think they have the answers.

Let me keep company always with those who say
    "Look!" and laugh in astonishment,
 and bow their heads.

"Mysteries, Yes" by Mary Oliver, from Evidence: Poems. © Beacon Press, 2010.

flying home on a perfect clear day 

 over the green of coastal sugarcane fields

 and meandering rivers

 squares , rectangles, order , disorder

 wiggling , winding, watering waterways

 further west of the coastline 

is the southern flight path

till ocean water is spied again below

boats bobbing
boats speeding

heading into Brisbane

visiting with long time friends brings much chat much laughter much singing
and for me 
always much reflection
on life
and the many twists and turns that we did not see coming
back when we were young
happy stories 
sad stories
only just going stories
having a ball stories

and the words of my dear neighbour here at home i hear ringing in my mind

It is what it is 

what we get
it is what it is 

soon i am taking off again
south west this time
to the Port Augusta Arid Gardens Sculpture Exhibition

after a big sleep that is