Bodies of Water Solo show at: NCCA
After the wet season the crocodiles sink into the mud, they breathe shallow, their hearts beat slow and they rest in the cool mud to wait for rain.
"Like most reptiles, crocodiles are cold-blooded animals and prefer to take up residence in tropical areas close to wetlands. They cannot generate heat on their own, therefore they go into a period of long sleep (or aestivation, a similar state to hibernation) until the weather heats up again. " ~ stockland.com.au
An assisted self portrait with camera work by Lewellyn Moulin on Dalabon/Ngalkon country in the Northern Territory, Australia.
All prints are custom printed in Australia on 310 gsm cotton rag.
All works are signed and are limited edition of just 10.
Exhibited as part of my first Australian solo show “Bodies of Water” at the Northern Centre for Contemporary Art in Darwin in 2024.
She consumed the earth itself.
Tadpoles filled the water, like sperm. She grew out of the dirt with the new shoots. Hair made of sticks and things. The waters rose, so did she. Out of the primordial ooze. She drank in the mud. And disappeared.
A story about how I wish we consumed the world.
Made at the very beginning of the wet season in one of the first rains of the year. I always love this time when everything comes alive and green is everywhere, so bright it hurts your eyes.
Created with the assistance by my dear friend Lewellyn Moulin. I pay my respect to the Traditional Owners of Weemol/Bulman region, the Dalabon and Rembarrnga people and their ancestors, past present and emerging.
Crocodiles are cold; it’s a feeling that's hard to describe if you have never held one close. They are smooth, gentle, and cold.
The relationship between mammals and reptiles has always been a source of fascination to me. Why are so many of us humans fearful of things that slither? There is a primal nature to crocodiles that I deeply love.
For me, they are living fossils, relics from a world before humans. A realm of instinct and environment, not of ego or conscience, just nature being its wild, dangerous, unapologetic self.
Photographed in an ancient sacred spring in Remote Northern Australia. Created on Dalabon Country with the permission of the Traditional Owners of the land.
Special thanks to Lewellyn Moulin and Susie Stockwell for helping in the creation of this work
Cicadas are an iconic part of life in North Australia.
After spending years underground, they emerge and fill the air with their deafening calls, the embodiment of life and death in the natural world.
A self portrait created on Larrakia country, I pay my respect to the Traditional Owner for the land and their Elders, past, present and emerging.
Limited edition of just 10
(8 remain)
She consumed the earth itself. Tadpoles filled the water, like sperm. She grew out of the dirt with the new shoots. Hair made of sticks and things. The waters rose, so did she. Out of the primordial ooze. She drank in the mud. And disappeared.
A story about how I wish we consumed the world.
Made at the very beginning of the wet season in one of the first rains of the year. I always love this time when everything comes alive and green is everywhere, so bright it hurts your eyes.
Created with the assistance by my dear friend Lewellyn Moulin. I pay my respect to the Traditional Owners of Weemol/Bulman region, the Dalabon and Rembarrnga people and their ancestors, past present and emerging.
All prints are custom printed in Australia on 310 gsm cotton rag.
Limited edition of just 10.
The rain fell and fell
Water still on the surface
Consuming the mud
The Petrichor collection is a body of work exploring the monsoonal season in Northern Australia. A transformative time of year when the parched landscape comes alive, altered completely by rain!
Limited edition of just 10
I love the disappearing skills of crocodiles.
The way they, with just a few centimeters of water, appear to no longer exist, vanishing completely into the environment.
This 'disappearing' is a recurring theme in my work, human mortality and our dissolution into nature, and the reminder that in the end, the wild will consume us all.
Photographed in an ancient sacred spring in Remote Northern Australia. Created on Dalabon Country with the permission of the Traditional Owners of the land.
Special thanks to Lewellyn Moulin and Susie Stockwell for helping in the creation of this work
Limited edition of just 10
It all begins with an idea. Maybe you want to launch a business. Maybe you want to turn a hobby into something more. Or maybe you have a creative project to share with the world. Whatever it is, the way you tell your story online can make all the difference.
I love the disappearing skills of crocodiles.
The way they, with just a few centimeters of water, appear to no longer exist, vanishing completely into the environment.
This 'disappearing' is a recurring theme in my work, human mortality and our dissolution into nature, and the reminder that in the end, the wild will consume us all.
Photographed in an ancient sacred spring in Remote Northern Australia. Created on Dalabon Country with the permission of the Traditional Owners of the land.
Special thanks to Lewellyn Moulin and Susie Stockwell for helping in the creation of this work
Limited edition of just 10
Life retreats to the river at this time of year.
The rain has stoped and the rivers calm and there is a hush over the wild.
A time of rest, to lay in the cool sand, a moment before the torrents return with the monsoon. The sand was absolutely full of beetles, as I lay my head down I could hear them all clicking as they started to crawl into my hair and over my skin, the life at the waters edge.
An assisted self portrait photographed by my husband Alex in a natural void in the sand. Created on Dalabon Country in the Northern Territory. Australia
Limited edition of just 10
She followed her soul into the wild...
Limited edition of just 10
(8 Remain)
The momentary beauty of a puddle that will already have turned to dust. An assisted self portrait Photographed in a puddle on a red dirt road in Northern Australia.
When I was a child we used to wait to see the deep red splashes cover our car as we drove through the puddles after the monsoonal rains. We always returned from adventure sodden and red with mud from head to toe.
Where I live in Northern Australia, water means life and death all at the same time.
There is fear in the water, the leviathans that linger there, we teach our children to try and see the bottom. But when the rain comes we are the first to dance in it, to swim in the puddles, to play in the mud and fish in the rivers.
Life and death, all at the same time. This piece was made in wet season, when the rivers are high and dangerous, when seeing the bottom is hard and when the water moves fast. There is so much water everywhere that it can consume you.
Made just outside of Bulman in the Northern Territory. I pay my respects to the Traditional Owners of the land, past, present and emerging.
Limited edition of just 10
I grew up by the salt water - it lived on my skin and in my hair. But recently we moved to the fresh water, to rivers and paperbark tress and I still miss the salt. I miss being clammy at the end of the day and having grit and sand under my fingernails and there are lots of days when I long for the waves and to see crocodiles bobbing up and down in the rhythm of the open sea. But for now I'll take heart that in the words of Paulo Coelho. “I understand that everything is connected, that all roads meet, and that all rivers flow into the same sea.”
Limited edition of just 10
Made to honour the end of the wet season.
A time when the still water lingers
And there is mud everywhere
Soon it will all be gone
Given over to the baking sun.
Made on Dalabon Country in the Northern Territory, Australia.
A work made in honour of the wet season A time when bones and skulls sip beneath the mud, long grass in the falling rain. In the endless cycle of the death that came before, feeding the life that is yet to bloom.
Throughout history there are so many stories of the women that came from the water.
Mermaids, selkies and in my home town the Djomi spirit that comes to create new life. The water, the womb, a place of life beginning and in many cultures a place where we go when we die. The flow of the natural world, from its beginning to it's end.
Photographed in an ancient sacred spring in Remote Northern Australia. Here, the water bubbles out of the ground from the heart of the earth This is my own story, about the goddess of the underworld coming to guide the souls of the dead on their journey...
This spring is a sacred place for women. I like to believe that the goddess came with the water and will guide lost spirits through it, home
Created on Dalabon Country with the permission of the Traditional Owners of the land. Special thanks to Lewellyn Moulin and Susie Stockwell for helping in the creation of this work.
Limited edition of just 10
and the ravens call
they called me to the bottom
back, always to mud
A self portrait.
Limited edition of just 10
Photographed in an ancient sacred spring in Remote Northern Australia. Here, the water bubbles out of the ground from the heart of the earth.
This is my own story, about the goddess of the underworld coming to guide the souls of the dead on their journey... This spring is a sacred place for women. I like to believe that the goddess came with the water and will guide lost spirits through it, home
Created on Dalabon Country with the permission of the Traditional Owners of the land. Special thanks to Lewellyn Moulin and Susie Stockwell for helping in the creation of this work.
Limited edition of just 10
Where I live in Northern Australia, water means life and death all at the same time. There is fear in the water, the leviathans that linger there, we teach our children to try and see the bottom.
But when the rain comes we are the first to dance in it, to swim in the puddles, to play in the mud and fish in the rivers. Life and death, all at the same time. This piece was made in wet season, when the rivers are high and dangerous, when seeing the bottom is hard and when the water moves fast.
There is so much water everywhere that it can consume you. Made just outside of Bulman in the Northern Territory.
I pay my respects to the Traditional Owners of the land, past, present and emerging.
Limited edition of just 10
The spirit in the mangrove trees was made of dingo bones, crocodile jaws, mud crab shells and kangaroos teeth. It moved among the mangroves and then slinked into the trees.
She consumed the earth itself. Tadpoles filled the water, like sperm. She grew out of the dirt with the new shoots. Hair made of sticks and things. The waters rose, so did she. Out of the primordial ooze. She drank in the mud. And disappeared.
A story about how I wish we consumed the world.
Made at the very beginning of the wet season in one of the first rains of the year. I always love this time when everything comes alive and green is everywhere, so bright it hurts your eyes.
Created with the assistance by my dear friend Lewellyn Moulin. I pay my respect to the Traditional Owners of Weemol/Bulman region, the Dalabon and Rembarrnga people and their ancestors, past present and emerging.
Limited edition of just 10
