I am always trying to tell a story about Australian identity – as a third generation colonial import of undistinguished lineage, this is a slippery thing to try and grab.
There is the overlay of European culture, always with the awareness of being ‘other’.
For me, I feel most Australian when walking and camping in the bush, my humanity slipping away and becoming smaller and more fragile. Feeling the power, space and ferocity of our wilderness. I like to imagine being lost and wondering how long I could survive.
Evidently people did manage to survive here for tens of thousands of years, and we have been privileged to see a glimpse of their view from the inside through various forms of cultural expression.
I am looking in from the outside, always framing what I see with my cultural background, never having lived as part of country, as they have.