HD Video Projection on Perspex
Edition of 5 + 2 AP
Stoically facing the horizon
in absolute silence.
Another Place signifies our longing to be elsewhere.
Subtly referencing the Chinese analogy of the moon, the project calls for the union of fragments one leaves behind. Seeds are ritualistically released to the ocean where every place connects. Some seeds may stay and grow, some may be carried away into the unknown — it is by nature that our longing adapts to its changing conditions.
Beyond the materiality of home, Another Place explores the continuous and vulnerable process of belonging and becoming — the ambiguous journey that repetitively oscillates between all places, the psychological and the physical.
Read exhibition catalogue with essay by Laura Thompson here
 It was Australia Day in Liverpool, UK. It was a normal Sunday, with nothing out of the ordinary.
I had an idea for a project, and I wanted to perform and document the idea on a beach somewhere. I decided to head to Crosby Beach. Crosby was famous for Antony Gormley’s sculptures ‘Another Place’. Figures facing the ocean, longing for something, a distant home maybe. I thought the analogy was perfect for my work — an act to perform my longing for a distant home back in Australia.
But it didn’t work.
The day was crisp and cold. By the time I reached Crosby the wind has grown a lot stronger. As I entered the park that led to the beach, I was hit by the strongest wind I could encounter. I lost my beanie straight away. My hair was wildly hitting my face. There was sand everywhere: my eyes, my nostrils, my lips. I could taste salt. Turning around was my first thought.
‘No. You are here. You can do this.’
It took me about 40 minutes to walk through the 500m trail leading to the beach. Against the wind, each step was more difficult than the previous one. Tears were flying from the corner of my eyes, uncontrollably. The grey clouds were pressing lower and heavier until it finally started to drizzle. I was not prepared for this. My head started to wonder, if such experience had anything to do with my initial idea.
Perhaps I wasn’t meant to be there.
I climbed the little hill before the sea was finally before me. For two seconds, I saw a glimpse of Gormley’s figures standing still in the violent waves. I made an extra step towards the beach, the wind forced me back a little. I tried again, and again. The sand in my hair was slapping my face so violently, that I could no longer open my eyes. ‘This is it,’ I thought. ‘It’s over. You know it is.’
As soon as the thought of giving up swept from my mind to my feet, the wind did the rest of the leg work. I was carried back to the trail by the wind. I could feel the forces behind me, as if someone was pushing. Unlike the sculptures, I was flesh and I was emotional.
I was speechless.
I realised how symbolic it was for me to fail to express my longing on Australia Day.
I was probably thinking too much, yes but,
how could one not?