Flick

2023
Mixed media on canvas
122cm x 153cm

Finalist in the Mid West Art Prize, 2023

I was walking our dog along a council strip of disused land so she could enjoy some fresh smells. Local kids have turned the narrow path into a bit of a BMX track, and I absolutely love it. The makeshift ramps they've created using scavenged timber, carpet, and other materials light enough to carry are really cool.

I came across some broken timber. The paint on it was scratched and faded, so I decided to bring it home with me.I also gathered a few other items that caught my eye, thinking I could use them in a sculpture. I've been meaning to learn how to use my arc welder anyway.

I loaded everything into my car and took it back to my studio. Despite my best efforts, that timber kept slipping from my arms. Once at the studio, I placed everything in a sunny spot, knowing it would take weeks for it all to dry out from the rain.

As I was setting down the timber, I noticed a redback spider. Being an Australian, I was well aware of the danger, so I quickly flicked it away from me. I was frustrated at myself for not checking. Such a rookie mistake! The spider had many opportunities to revenge bite me, even taking refuge in my car, but it remained faithful to its timber—it was its home.

I didn't flick the spider too forcefully; it was more of a gentle tap. The spider rolled away, and I watched as it curled up and became motionless. A felt a sense of sadness. It was cold, alone, an innocent little thing. I observed it for a while, hoping it was just playing dead, but there were no signs of life.

In the following days, as I came and went from the studio, I checked the spot where the spider had been, until one day, it was gone. I assume the rain and wind must have carried it away, or perhaps some ants found it. I'm not entirely sure.

I’m sorry little spider.