Sunday, 29 April 2007
I've worked hard in the workroom these past few days but I can't share what I've done. Both pieces are for challenges, due tomorrow, so I'll show them to you then. But I thought I'd show you a postcard I made earlier, that included a mud map. It's from one of my favourite places in the world - the Barrier Ranges, near Broken Hill, where I grew up. The mud map shows the western escarpment, where the ranges drop down to the Mundi Mundi plain. When you stand on the edge of the escarpment, you feel utterly alone. The wind always blows, so conversation is difficult. This is an ancient land, and you are standing on its bare bones, worn down by years. The huge plain stretches out in front of you, the horizon drawn with a child's ruler. It's criss-crossed with dry creeks carved out by the force of the water coming off the ranges from the occasional violent downpours in this dry land. Look up and the mighty bowl of the sky, brazen blue, is a million miles above your head. Some wedgetail eagles circle lazily, riding the currents. On the far horizon, blue on blue, is a single pinnacle, and when you look at a map, you realise it's nearly 100 miles away. Between it and you, there are maybe twenty people.