Tasmanian High Plains with Foxgloves explores a landscape shaped by wind, altitude, and quiet endurance. The high plains hold a spare, luminous beauty — grasses bent low, pale earth exposed, and long views where the horizon seems almost weightless. Against this muted terrain, foxgloves rise in unexpected colour, offering a moment of contrast that feels both fragile and assured.
 
Working in oil and wax on board, I build the surface through layered translucence, holding light within the work much as the alpine air holds it in place. The wax medium allows for that sense of soft atmosphere — a veil of thin light, the gentlest drift of colour, the quiet movement of plant forms in open space. Through scraping, re-layering, and subtle shifts of tone, I seek to echo the rhythm of this environment: slow, spacious, and quietly persistent.
 
What draws me to the high plains is this interplay between austerity and tenderness. The landscape appears exposed and weathered, yet moments of beauty emerge with surprising clarity — a slope of flowers, a break of light, a shimmer of movement across grass. The foxgloves, though not native, become part of this tension: their vertical forms rising briefly in a place defined by harsh conditions, speaking to resilience as much as delicacy.
 
In this work, I’m less concerned with exact depiction than with evocation — the feeling of standing in thin, bright air, of colour anchored within a spare horizon, of noticing something fleeting before it disappears. The landscape becomes a space of pause, where the eye slows and quietness gathers.
Ultimately, Tasmanian High Plains with Foxgloves is a reflection on transience and endurance — on the way beauty can surface in unexpected places, and how the land reveals itself to those who stay long enough to see. It is an invitation into stillness, into the subtle pulse of colour and light held within a wild and open place.
 
103cm x 93cm Oil and wax on canvas framed in floating oak