As the lockdowns lifted, my family sought out empty coastlines while I, exhausted, lay on the sand. An invitation to a sculpture festival led me to wonder how this heavy Yarn could float on water, and my studio shifted to the shoreline where my family played. I began gentle experiments with beeswax and raw wool.
Since 2011 I had carried a largely unconscious fear of the ocean. But as I photographed and filmed the Yarn beneath the surface, I found myself entering the water too. It was the Yarn and my family together that led me back into the ocean.
When the festival was postponed, my interest shifted from control to witnessing. I stopped trying to make the Yarn float and let it play in the water. It moved with the tides, even becoming a momentary plaything for a passing stingray. The work was made at Frankston, Queenscliff and Point Lonsdale in Victoria.
