The shoot was postponed and I drove north into the bush, everywhere seeing bland sameness of trees and scrub, perfect backdrop to nude figures, but no figures.
Moving more deeply into the bush, a call to the right ... the late afternoon sun has entered a scribble bark tree and lit the precious amber juices it shares.
Bronze travellings ...
A flying thing now caught in forever becoming amber...
Un-coy, she simply is, dark mystery open to all who pass by...
