Moonlit

The moon shines down with gentle persistence, following me from country to country and from home to home. It slings low over boats bobbing in Lake Burley Griffin and sits high over the Brindabellas soft peaks.

On clear night, the rabbit silhouetted in the moon gives a joyful leap. I am that rabbit – my Chinese Zodiac animal is gentle natured, keenly intelligent, full of natural zest and of course, modest. It seems natural that my ceramics life took off in a Year of the Rabbit, and natural that this body of work is accompanied by the moon.

We need the moon in my corner of Kamberri/Canberra. The good people of the inner South have long resisted street lighting on the basis that it might ‘frighten the animals’. So the rustlings and the hoppings continue, as they have for millennia on Ngunnawal and Ngambri country. 

Night has fallen in the late Summer garden: the persimmons are ripening and the jasmine is heavy.  At dawn I’ll cut a fresh spray of flowers and place them them in a vase that I’ve made from local clay and rock — and fired in a kiln under the stars. 

But in this moment, I’m alone, save for the urgent rustling in the camellias.  The moon spotlights a prowling possum –  before turning to more serious moonly tasks, like regulating the tides and illuminating the night garden for ceramic artists who can’t sleep.

Moon-lit.