She never shook the stars from their appointed courses,
But she loved good men, and she rode good horses.
– Margot Liberty
Late last year we spent a lovely girl’s weekend of swims, chills and good food at the cooly renovated Black Ace in Yamba. For the first time in a long time, I had a little time off from commercial work (plus a little second-trimester reappearance of energy) to just draw whatever… so I took a little inspiration from the old, bold, peaceful ocean vibes of the black and white beach shack.
Such a great place to chill out and let the mind wander…
A quoll and a hawk fight it out over some Mottlecah and wattle flowers.
I sent this piece away to an exhibition and it never returned… I wonder where it ended up?
One of my favourite things I made for 2018 was a simple lunar calendar, so I decided to revisit it again for 2019. I’m no lunar expert, but I love keeping track of the movements of the moon while it holds it’s sway over tides, emotions, dreams and sleeping patterns.
The Follow the Moon calendars are only available for a limited time — orders will close in February 2019.
We had a bit of a rough roll through central-western NSW recently. Something was wrong with the car, and a queue of different mechanics each failed to diagnosis and fix it. So there was a lot of swearing and sadness in the front seats, fraught phone calls, and tense road-side waits.
One such road-side wait was halfway between the drought-racked towns of Gunnedah and Quirindi, a road lined by cotton fields, with their rows of ghastly, seemingly-dead brown bushes, spilling forth unbelievably white, fluffy crowns. And in the golden afternoon light, as we tried to make it from one town to the other beneath a gently merciless blue sky, the fields were creamy, blushing, soft. The perfect palette rolled orderly and straight out into the night.
So when I started to draw the rain pony, I thought about that light, those colours. I thought a little bit about the sad, tense frustration of those little everyday-life setbacks, held against the backdrop of harrowing, desperate drought. And I thought about the big and small things that ebb around us and distract us and remind us. And the hopefulness of making a wish, of trying to will something to be, to draw up a spell or a summoning or an acknowledgement of what is at the very heart of the thing.
I hope the rain pony brings you some magic.
I don't need to tell you why horses are magical. It's about the same as dogs, really. What's not to love about sweet, curious animal friends that try their little hearts out to impress humans, who, by-and-large, are just pretty bad at everything?