In Scrubland #13, I return once again to the understated beauty of inland bushland — those tangled, sun-bleached places that hold a quiet rhythm beneath their apparent stillness. This work continues my exploration of the overlooked: the way the ground curves, the branches lean, the air shifts with light and distance.
 
The medium — oil and wax on board — allows the painting to sit somewhere between depiction and memory. Through layering, scraping, and soft veiling, I build a surface that feels lived-in, weathered, and slow-moving — like the scrub itself. The wax holds light within the paint, suggesting the shimmer of grass, the dry gleam of bark, or the faint heat that lingers at the close of day.
 
This work isn’t about grand landscape, but intimacy — the sense of standing still within it, surrounded by its quiet persistence. Scrubland #13 is an act of observation and of belonging: a way of recognising that beauty lies in endurance, in small shifts of tone, in the complex order of what at first seems chaotic.
 
There is a humility in these places that I find deeply moving. They ask little, but offer much: the sound of wind through foliage, the flash of a bird, the subtle glow of ochre and grey interwoven. In painting them, I’m not trying to impose meaning but to listen — to find the quiet language the land already speaks.
 
In Scrubland #13, I hope to hold a moment of still attention — a reminder that the landscape, even in its simplest form, holds stories of time, resilience, and renewal. It invites the viewer to slow down, to notice, to be still long enough for the land to speak back.
 
62cm x 50cm Oil and wax on paper