If there was an island I should be washed up to, it would be Fraser.
Made of reflecting sand, infinite turquoise waters and way too many midges, it is the home of the Butchulla people. The traditional owners of this floating land call it K'Gari, meaning paradise... Many visitors, like me, did impregnated with that concept only with little mental effort. As soon as one lay a bare foot on K'Gari endless beach, time slows.
With its horde of dingoes, white head eagles, tiger sharks, daulphins and whales (or so I have witnessed), it forces to stop and observe. So, I did.
When walking to the lakes, to the campsite, to the beach, the soft sand relentlessly sank each one of my steps, raising me heart bit, deepening each breath. Heavy rain taught me to listen to its rythm, how it bounces on the foliage, guessing when it will come and go.
Waiting for the dark clouds to make their way back to the sea, I painted them, fascinated by their ever changing shapes. Their pace still resonate within me and I am forever inking them down on paper. How vain, it is, to attempt capturing these moving mountains? Made of liquid air, they will keep appearing in my art long after I have left. Vapourous islands drifting low above K'Gari, I even see you in my dreams.