This range began its days at a kitchen bench in an old shack near the beach, in Bawley Point. Inspired by beach, gardens and the gentle calm of repetition, the range features flowers in profusion, and an array of spots, dots and tile-like patterns. It is made of carefully chosen coloured patches cut from unlikely sources. It celebrates colour, joy and mystery.
A beautiful number, it holds centre stage in this piece. Dirgy, serious browns, greys and greens, this piece is weighty, mysterious and rhythmic. Old masters sit next to fisherman’s jumpers, granite and doorways butt up against brick, and sky that looks like water confuses, next to water that looks like sky.
Do you remember that pencil in the pack of pencils at the start of the school year – the odd kind of pink, kind of red, kind of purple one? I loved that pencil – it seemed so show-offy, so exuberant, so destined for a life of feather boas and dazzling glamour. Crimson too, the colour of my favourite lipsticks, the red shoes you covet in the window, velvet curtains in the theatre of your imagination, sumptuous glamour and the improbable sex appeal of an old-fashioned starlet. Crimson-magenta sounds like somebody’s stage name, and whoever she is, you can bet she’d love this card.
Blue and brown are not my usual colours, but this one sprang from the earth, wanting to flower. Soil-brown, the background is made of pieces gently torn; overlaid fragments of books and shining locks, leather and walls, fabric and bark. The flower is an exploration of the daisy family, each petal smaller and smaller in carefully placed rings, so delicate down to the finest inner petals which can be so improbably small. To think, the real things grow themselves, and no scissors cut them out, no clumsy hand makes them. This card is like a celebration of these mysteries – sun, sky soil and what they make together.
Named after Gerard Manley Hopkin’s poem, with the sparkling words ‘adazzle dim’, this piece reminds me of pools and cool lagoons, but is also in honour of the incredible diversity of nature. The never-ending palette of different blues and greens, changing as the light hits the water, or speaking to the depth and subterranean contents of the waterbody. Awash. Mysterious. Refreshing.
Inspired by the seaside skies featured in a crime drama I got hooked to while working on this series, this piece was made as I rifled through my collection of papers in the blue notes. Clean, precise like the photography in the show. Dreamy and full of skies, the pieces kind of fit together, and kind of don’t. Leaning into each other, with strange gaps, there is a rhythm here, a story that you can’t quite tell.
Named by the person who bought the first ever card from this range, this card does indeed look like a treasure trove of jewels. Maybe the kind that as a kid you thought looked like lollies and would secretly suck on when mum wasn’t looking. These jewels are scattered and wonky and sparkle through your day.
Set the table for tea! Inspired by a 1950’s Tablecloth from my memory, and adorned with sunburst-like orange blooms, this piece was made up of carefully selected orange and red textures and colours, scoured from hundreds of pages of magazines. Petals are made from everything orange and bursting with life: they are skirts and carpets, loudly proclaiming signs and freshly laid cheerful tables, chillis straight from the garden, washed gleaming strawberries, tiny little carrots. Some petals are overlaid with oil pastel to create an aged patina; this image is like a refreshing afternoon tea.
The centre of one of these flowers reminds me unexpectedly of olives. This piece is all about colour—the olive, aqua, grey, blue—and how they sit together, scattered and unexpectedly make a beautiful patchwork, together with red petals. Light and shade the petals are played upon by light.
Pink dots in a yellow surround. This is one of the first experiments with crayon and collage. Originally unnamed, a friend who is among the world’s greatest ice cream consumers felt it had a fresh, fruity overtone.
To me these colours are some of the most restful in the world. I love dusky duck-egg blue through to dirty turquoise, and the looseness of the lines in this piece speak of relaxation and rest. Calming. Gentle. Occupied, engaged, each square appears to be busy doing something, but the whole is loosely connected and held lattice-like in a loose embrace.
This is movement in a blur, Chinatown on a busy Friday night, Jakarta as a first-time visitor. The Asian century and the movement of bodies in public places, the movement of 21st century cities, time as it swings by caught on the lens. It is golden luck and baked red earth, city buildings nearing each other with glimpses between them. The warmth of physical objects and the glimmer of gold, which on closer inspection is only the light bouncing off something caught in the sun.
Named after my lovely fella, who harks from a part of the world where it is a seaside, not a beach, this image is made of layered waves of harborside blue and scattered with gentle sail boats. Washed with oil pastels, rubbed back like the timber bathers’ sheds along the coast, whose paint is eroded softly by wind and sea spray and the years.
This card is a homage to one of the best letter writers and note makers I know. Inspired herself by 60s flowers, she is a fan of simple bold designs in bright colours. The petals of this card are made primarily of old envelopes and notes written by her (and others) and sent with love over the years. The background has tea packaging and art paper and a number from the dry cleaner, or was it from the takeaway? Busy lives, with errands and projects and notes written and sent in the mail.