When I drive into Mparntwe it’s overcast, suggesting rather than threatening rain, and for the next couple of days it does rain, the East and West MacDonnells shrouded in low clouds. I’m told this is rare and I shouldn’t expect to see this weather again during my time here. Sure enough in a couple of days the sun comes out and the sky is clear as a bell or birdsong.
It’s been a little over a week or so now, I’m feeling humbled and raw by the bigness of this place. I mean bigness in terms of time, space, feeling, intensity, sky and rock.
I both was and wasn’t expecting this bigness. I’ve started work on something which will be bigger than anything I’ve made with the combo of my hands and clay before. In my short history of making things with my hands and clay I’ve only made short/ small things. The bigness of this place calls for something bigger.
Before I left a friend read my tarot that began with Death and ended with the Knight of Cups. Her interpretation was that of learning of hold grief, transforming the flag of death into a cup. Between applying and meaning to be here this time last year, covid, lockdowns, the death of my best friend have all changed this journey and what it means for me being here. This is what I’m thinking about looking at these red rocks that demarcate and contain everything here: how to hold love, how to hold grief.
Leonie Brialey is a cartoonist and musician from Boorloo Perth where she’s recently returned after living in Naarm Melbourne.