60 x 60 x 4cm
 
Timber, MDF, photography, artist pigment and graphite
 
One square is missing, but something remains.
 
This work recalls a return to regional Western Australia, after months away — a familiar place that no longer felt the same. A childhood image is broken into fragments, reassembled without order. My brother and I are there, perched on a horse that felt impossibly high. We were terrified. That fear remains, even if the details do not.
 
There are stories from that place — the awkward silence of being back, the effort of rewinding a cassette over and over to understand the lyrics of Come on Eileen. Not quite getting them right. But trying.
 
With Aphantasia, I can’t see the scene. I can’t relive the photo. What I recall is the tension of it — the space, the sounds, the strange familiarity of home after absence. The work isn’t about the image, but the distance between knowing and seeing. A puzzle without a solution. A place I can feel, but not picture.