Elsewhere
A body of work inspired by remembered dreams.I’ve written my dreams down for years. Sometimes I’ll remember one dream in a week, sometimes six. It changes all the time. If I can remember enough of one, even just a few details, that’s usually enough for me to write it down.Reading them back feels a bit like watching a film you haven’t seen in a long time. Everything comes back. Some dreams I can almost understand, while others stay with me for years without ever really making sense.I’m fascinated by what our minds put together while we sleep. It makes me wonder how many years of memories, places, conversations and small moments become tangled together into something completely new. For me, it’s usually the feeling or the colours that stay with me long after I’ve woken up.When I make these paintings, I try to stay as close as I can to the dream or the feeling I remember. They aren’t about explaining what the dreams mean. They’re another way of remembering them.
An Agreement with Uncertainty
There was water everywhere, and those big boats with yellow detailing that kind of looked like fishing boats. There was also some kind of wooden plank or walkway, almost like a dock, but it was just floating. I remember swimming to it and climbing onto it.The dream felt positive. Everyone was really kind and friendly, especially one man who was very nice. I'm pretty sure it was John Locke from the show Lost. I can't remember exactly what happened, but I remember having a lot of fun. It was adventurous and exciting.There was another woman there too. We were chatting about Auto-Tune, and for some reason she had Auto-Tune built into her voice. It made no sense.I don't remember too many details, but I remember how murky the water was, the temperature of the water—it was almost warm—and the greens and deep blues. The light reflecting off the water in the distance made it look like lighter shades of blue. I remember the feeling that people were helpful, and how safe and enjoyable it all felt.The woman reminded me of an old friend, Millie. She's one of the best people I've ever met. I remember the colour of her hair and the laughter throughout our conversations.A childhood friend, Michael, was there at some point too, which is strange. I haven't spoken to or thought about him since I left New Zealand over 10 years ago. He lived across the road from my nana. I even remembered his address, which was such an odd detail.Dream recorded
02 July 2026
I stopped asking the water
to become land.Some things are held together
without ever touching.A place can drift for years,
and still remember how to carry you.There are voices that arrived changed,
yet somehow, say exactly
what they always meant.The kindest things
often have
no reason
to remain.Still
they wait.
And for a while, the world agrees
not to let you sink.
I found the water the hardest part of this painting. Towards the end, I relied more on modelling paste because I couldn't quite capture the feeling I remembered with paint alone.I also struggled with the perspective and proportions. The ship wasn't originally meant to be a ship. It began as an area of colour, but over time it slowly became more recognisable. It took me a while to figure out how to make it work with the platform and the horizon.For this dream, I had to start with one scene. Once I'd painted the colours and feeling I remembered, I felt like I could come back to the rest of the dream later. There are still parts of it I haven't painted yet.
The Underground Pool
I was with my friend Kane in an underground pool. It was dark and mysterious, but not scary. It felt hidden, underground, almost like a secret place.There was a protector-like person at the back of the pool doing something, but I wasn't able to get close enough to figure out what. There was ambient music playing throughout the space. It felt like slow jazz, as if someone was playing down the hallway. It would fade in and out. I remember it feeling so dramatic, almost alluring and hypnotising, almost like a dusty record, but somehow I knew it was a person playing.There were sheer curtains draped throughout the space, and shades of red and indigo light drifted between them.There may have been another man there, but I don't know who it was. I remember feeling slightly cautious about why that person was there.There was a cat swimming in the pool. The cat was very large, fluffy, and different shades of grey. It wasn't struggling in the water. It was bobbing up and down, almost like a dolphin surfacing. Seeing the cat surprised me. It felt unexpected and unusual. I was intrigued, confused, and a bit taken aback.The cat didn't feel magical, but seeing it swim felt strange. It seemed natural for the cat, even though cats don't usually swim like that.It all felt calm, mysterious, curious, and surreal.
It is strange how a place can feel familiar when it exists nowhere but a dream.
I was really excited to paint this one because the dream felt so surreal, and the emotions stayed with me for a long time. They felt rich somehow, and I wanted to hold onto them.At first I tried painting the dream more literally because I could remember the space it so clearly it felt like the obvious place to start, but it didn't work the way I wanted it to. More importantly, it didn't feel the way I wanted it to.Painting sheer curtains for the first time was also difficult. I wanted to get the dream onto paper as soon as possible, so instead of stopping to learn how to paint them properly, I decided to approach the painting differently.I started thinking about what else creates that same feeling. Hidden rooms, long hallways, glimpses of colour that almost feel like whispering, like quiet wonder.
Just Grabbing My Carrot
Recurring childhood dream.I was in a dimly lit room with brick walls in shades of orange and deep reds. The corners were filled with dark shadows, and there was a large drain in the back right corner of the room. To the left was an arched doorway. I remember the sound of distant drips and the faint echoes.I was chained up by my wrists, suspended against the wall with a warm carrot placed sideways in my mouth. For a moment, I'm just there.I spat the carrot out, and as it hit the floor, my feet followed. As I looked up, a shadowy figure came around the corner and, in a raspy but sort of soft whisper, said, "What are you doing?" I responded, "I'm just getting my carrot."I picked it up, placed it back in my mouth, and returned to my place in chains.The dream felt eternal. It was a short scene, but it felt almost like slow motion.
As a child I didn't like carrots, specifically warm cooked carrots, so I've often wondered if that's where part of it came from. I also think older kids were watching Harry Potter. The Dementors terrified me, and the figure in this dream has always reminded me of them. It wore a cloak that draped and dragged across the floor, although I never saw its face.It's an absurd dream that I'd definitely like to look into a bit more one day.
Contact
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