Sculpture always held an intrinsic appeal, whether this is inextricably linked to a familial past or simply in recognition of the energy I felt emanate from the rocks I worked in stonemasonry. I noticed that the stone coming from the earth and from the quarry held different energies. Similarly, an old moss-covered paddock rock had a character and story to contrast that of a new rock pulled from the quarry. It was the notion that freshly excavated rocks were like eggs ready to be born of the womb of Mother Earth that inspired my work with stone sculpture.
My initial idea of sculpture was to find a stone with character – maybe the scratch of an excavator bucket or shaped with unusual geometry – and to stand it upright. (This is the first form of human-made art.) It was akin to helping a newborn stand. I was giving the rock entropy or energy. It could fall but if it didn’t, it was art and it was assuming a new life form. From this primitive art form grew my foray into sculpture.
From this original inception new forms began to emerge. I began to carve my reflection into the stone. Upon seeing my form, I wanted to give it life and spirit. I was interested in the idea of creating softness and vulnerability in sturdy, stealth-like forms. Creating portals and hollows introduced breathe and flow into impenetrable forms and thus followed spirit and life. These artworks bore a timely resemblance to my own personal journey and desire for more of these attributes in my life at this time.
I started to experiment further with engaging stone in different ways with its surrounds – looking at the geometry of the landscape formation and the characters within the stone. Nature’s geometric forms began to leap out at me and I developed a fascination with spirals. I played with hanging stones in voids, standing stones in spires reaching for the sky, and figurative portraiture.