I've just released a new limited edition fine art print (Into the Mystic, here), and wanted to share a little snapshot of the process.

At the end of last year, I started mapping out the individual drawings in rough pencil scribbles, fitting them together and filling the page. But after laying down the initial black ink outlines, I felt a bit disheartened – the ideas were too disparate, ill-fitting, not cohesive enough. 

I eventually added in the first layer of colour anyway. And once the blue was across the whole page, everything locked together. (An aside: that Mint Blue marker is my new favourite thing... I'll be a loyal Posca addict forever, but that blue has convinced me to expand my marker scope).

Anyway, that's a part of the process that I should be familiar with by now. That there's always a point in any work where you're sure the whole thing just sucks and isn't going to work. But it's actually just a lapse in vision, I think. A synapse failure between what the initial, imagined idea looked like, and how the physical, real output is going to manifest. 

Because once the final black layer was down, it realigned exactly as I'd imagined. It was precisely what I'd been trying to pull together, the page I had thought about at first. So, there it was... Into the Mystic. 

Things are always in a constant flux between lazy complacency and wired-excited-fiery sharp focus. And that focus needs to be adjusted and readjusted all the time; as motivation is lost, intention obscured, meaning waylaid... But I'm trying all the time to be honest and purposeful in what I create, instead of just running through the motions of what I know I can do. 

And I think the results are starting to emerge...

Tomorrow is Australia Day/Invasion Day/Survival Day/nothing for some. 

I don’t want to write about it, but I do want to share some people who have – because there are always powerful, heartfelt stories being told by Indigenous Australians, and they need to be reverberated. 

First, read this from Amrita Hepi – I cry every time I read it, and I have read it a lot. It is true and right; our country is at once easy and painful to love. 

The Fabric Social journal kinda nails it in suggesting that a good place to start for all non-Indigenous Australians is to make this this day a day of listening, and to continue listening to and supporting Indigenous voices. There’s a list of talented women you should be following, listening to, and learning from.

This insightful and intelligent piece from Katie West digs into colonisation and inter-generational trauma via her artistic practice. So important in helping non-Indigenous Australians to understand why the date matters, and why the past is still here, all the time.

Luke Pearson lays it out here, and there's a whole lot more to learn from, all the time, on Indigenous X and NITV. 

For those of you in Aus looking for a way to show your support for changing the date, or to deviate from the head-in-the-sand get-drunk-and-swim approach, maybe go and check out these rallies and events. 

And while we’re on adding more diverse voices to your daily media clamour, a few creatives from Instagram (please pipe up in the comments if you’ve got other artist recommends too) to check out are Otis Hope Carey, Zachary Bennett-Brook, aforementioned Katie West and Lauren Freestone. Also, the Martumili Artists account shares Indigenous art with the most incredible colour palettes. And finally, Thelma Plum is not only a talented singer and possibly the most beautiful lady I've ever seen, but she's also honest and funny and tough.

So: read, listen, learn, appreciate. Remember that when you stay silent on an issue, you condone the status quo. And keep these voices in your head.

Above model photographed by Ming Nomchong for Auguste. 

We can always do with a little more magic and a lot more light.