city under water

As is common for inner city dwellers in Brisbane, I've walked across the Story Bridge many times. When I was a postal worker in Coorparoo, I'd walk from my home in New Farm almost daily. It was always my habit to check the time on the City Hall clock as I passed the single point where it was still visible on the bridge. The clock tower was once the tallest building in Brisbane, now it seems to be drowning in its tall, modern neighbours.

The weight of the clouds in city under water reflects the inevitability of change over a lifetime. It draws on my memory of Brisbane's summer storms, the ones that rolled in with a heavy, low-pressured drama, punctuated by one or two shafts of golden sunlight before the burst of warm, giant raindrops.

In the painting, the clock tower beams out from beneath the cascading clouds, luminous with memory and promise. Built in layered glazes, the work uses the circular format of my handmade tondo to guide the eye through sky and structure. Its deep blue palette, softened edges, and blurred reflections mimic the way memory and atmosphere distort the present. I wanted the clouds of buildings to press down, physically and psychologically, while the resilient City Hall keeps singing its beautiful song through this, and many other storms.