i came to the red centre with the intent to create works that mediate the news cycles through the living environment (having definitely doom scrolled into states of paralysis over the last few years).

but when i arrived to arrernte country, so too did the media cycles ~ in a sudden moment of raw, collective trauma and grief; right here. a new necessity for a depth of sensitivity and care that i was not ready or equipped for. mostly, i was trying not to impose, and this signalled a deviation.

i took to the senses ~ to listening, hearing, and feeling through ~ the elements, the debris, and the people amongst them. i’d been quite drawn to the clay pans; the winds and unexpected waters, tapping into reverent forms of environmental attunement and archiving.

thinking lots about my position on these lands, i found a pile of burnt out cars (a sightly more NT-ubiquitous scene than i’d first thought), and felt a strong resonance, like they were a reflection of me, in this place.

things that shouldn’t be here, and things that are.

with a phone, sensitive recording instruments (two contact mics, a geophone, a hydrophone, an omnidirectional mic), and my body, i set out to observe the sounds, textures and movements on a more delicate and focused scale. listening through trees, waters, and rust, outside and beyond my human animal ears.

the audio has been treated, placed within space and sculpted, but nothing new has been written; just the subtlest motions, captured with subtlest devices.