Laura Pannack

17th May 2019

If you’re a dedicated follower of this blog you’ll know I’m not the most punctual person! Last week May 10th marked a decade of posting (nearly) every Thursday . The tales have been a reflective way of honoring how lucky I feel to roam, meet and engage with those I meet. As well as having poor time management I also own an awful memory. My diary entries aren’t just a cathartic vent they also help me recall the funny, heartwarming and challenging moments before and after the image.

To celebrate this occasion and make up for my lateness I’m sharing a new image from Tasmania with more to come. This work is fresh from the lab and I need to delve through it with a clear and well slept mind.

Three years ago Sian and I committed to the idea of collaborating on a project exploring youth on the opposite side of the world. Sian lives and works in Hobart and she sold me the idea of Tasmania when I asked her to describe it:

The line between life and death is very fine

The wilderness is so vast, so unforgiving, and the weather can change so abruptly (searing sunshine to snowstorms), that it is easy to get caught out. Hikers die of exposure.

Historically, Tasmaniawas originally the cruellistpenal colony. There was a ‘Dog Line’ – a line of ferocious dogs to prevent convicts escaping across Eaglehawk Neck from the nearby penal colony.

Its people remain,by all social indicators,the poorest in Australasia. (Tasmania is not in the country of Australia – it’s a separate country. It is part of Australasia, a continent.)

There is great abundance (the seas are teeming with the most extraordinary fish, crays, oysters you’ve ever tasted), and there is great deprivation (roughly 50% of the population is illiterate; ‘ice’ dependency is rife).

It is a ‘haunted island’: much talk of myths and stories and darkness.

A quote from Richard Flanagan: ‘Tasmania is an island Wunderkammer, crammed full of the exotic and the strange, the beautiful and the cruel, conducive not to notions of progress but to a sense of unreality — an unreality without which there would be no MONA’

I think the thing that strikes me about disenfranchised youth is that they can often feel like kings. A haircut or attire becomes a symbolic of power. I want to see them through your eyes.

After a few years I was ready. Despite the mammoth journey I was excited. Sian and I decided to recce the first few days together and then I borrowed her beautiful vintage wagon to revisit the places I felt most compelled to. Her 33 year old Merc had the charm of refusing to accelerate when it decided to which meant there were a few hairy moments of panic. I stumbled across Gagebrook and decided this was my place. Sian had initially concluded that it would be the most interesting area for us to explore but we needed to make sure we ticked off any off potentials before settling.

It soon became apparent how everyone knew each other and those I met were full of character ;warm, vibrant and great company. Dwight was a gem and I look forward to sharing some tales. He was so friendly and confident- I liked him instantly

Soon Ill be sharing extracts from the project as well as delivering our collaboration in full so this will be a rare post. OAO x

The line between life and death is very fine

The wilderness is so vast, so unforgiving, and the weather can change so abruptly (searing sunshine to snowstorms), that it is easy to get caught out. Hikers die of exposure.

Its people remain,by all social indicators,the poorest in Australasia. (Tasmania is not in the country of Australia – it’s a separate country. It is part of Australasia, a continent.)

It is a ‘haunted island’: much talk of myths and stories and darkness.

I think the thing that strikes me about disenfranchised youth is that they can often feel like kings. A haircut or attire becomes a symbolic of power. I want to see them through your eyes.