Table of Con­tents | Arti­cle doi: 10.17742/IMAGE.MM.12.2.5 | PDF


Ren­der­ing Self and Microa­gres­sions Kim Snep­vangers

Rendering Self and Microagressions Visible Through the Shadow Image

Kim Snep­vangers
This project, start­ing with Prompt 2 from the Mas­sive Micro Sense­mak­ing (MMS) led by Annette Markham and Anne Har­ris in May through June 2020, assist­ed me to move through the anx­i­ety of COVID-19 lock­down. I set up four visu­al renderings—a series of pho­tographs that, through a process of unfold­ing, make links to broad­er issues in my archival research in the con­text of set­tler colo­nial Syd­ney, Aus­tralia. Explor­ing lived expe­ri­ence through pho­tog­ra­phy antic­i­pates a cre­ative a/r/tographic lens, focus­ing on ren­der­ing objects so that they take on a more-than-rep­re­sen­ta­tion­al aspect, touch­ing the mate­ri­al­i­ty of objects as data. Adap­tive­ly lay­er­ing the ren­der­ings moves beyond one dimen­sion­al­i­ty as a strict cap­tur­ing of an observed phe­nom­e­na. Here, an ini­tial pho­to­graph has a latent, addi­tion­al lay­er of shad­ow to build vol­ume and re-cast sem­blances of the rep­re­sen­ta­tion­al world through reflection.
Ce pro­jet, qui a débuté avec Prompt #2 du Mas­sive Micro Sense­mak­ing (MMS) dirigé par Annette Markham et Anne Har­ris de mai à juin 2020, m’a aidé à faire face à l’anxiété causée par le con­fine­ment de la COVID-19. J’ai mis en place qua­tre représen­ta­tions visuelles - une série de pho­togra­phies qui, à tra­vers un proces­sus de déploiement, étab­lis­sent des liens avec des ques­tion­nements plus larges au cours de mes recherch­es d’archives dans le con­texte de la coloni­sa­tion de Syd­ney, en Aus­tralie. Explor­er l’expérience vécue à tra­vers la pho­togra­phie prévoit un objec­tif a/r/tographique créatif, axé sur la représen­ta­tion des objets afin qu’ils pren­nent un aspect plus que représen­tatif, touchant la matéri­al­ité des objets en tant que don­nées. Adapter la super­po­si­tion des ren­dus va au-delà de l’aspect dimen­sion­nel en tant que sim­ple cap­ture d’un phénomène observé. Cette pre­mière pho­togra­phie a ici une couche d’ombre sup­plé­men­taire pour créer du vol­ume et recréer des sem­blants du monde fig­u­ratif à tra­vers le reflet.

I acknowl­edge the Bid­ji­gal and Gadi­gal peo­ples of the Eora nation as the tra­di­tion­al cus­to­di­ans of the land on which I work. I acknowl­edge the Gamayn­gal peo­ple of Kamay (Botany Bay) as the tra­di­tion­al cus­to­di­ans of the land on which I live. I pay my respects to Elders past and present, and extend this respect to all Abo­rig­i­nal and Tor­res Strait Islander peo­ple. Sov­er­eign­ty nev­er ceded.

The Massive Micro Sensemaking project and positioning

In cre­at­ing pho­tos to cap­ture habit­u­at­ed yet non-inter­ro­gat­ed rou­tines, I engage trans­for­ma­tive encoun­ters with seduc­tive pho­to­graph­ic moments that are about objects, yet they main­tain invis­i­ble micro-aggres­sions hid­den in plain sight. By exam­in­ing ways of under­stand­ing locu­tion­ary posi­tion­al­i­ty with­in a geo­graph­ic coun­cil area, sta­t­ic, pre-deter­mined notions of community/collectivity can be chal­lenged.  Using con­cep­tions of the local that encom­pass per­son­al, com­mu­ni­ty, and coun­cil bound­aries, due to the pan­dem­ic lock­down, I seek nuanced under­stand­ings of Aus­tralian iden­ti­ty through new spa­tial per­spec­tives that I had not pre­vi­ous­ly con­sid­ered. This unset­tling work pro­vokes audi­ences to inter­ro­gate their own ori­gins and ques­tion belong­ing in a nation built on geno­cide and lies. Through visu­al images that move towards con­tem­po­rary pos­si­bil­i­ties of recla­ma­tion, this project cre­ates new entan­gle­ments of Self, the Oth­er, and the World with a provoca­tive gaze that focus­es on the sys­tem itself.

The Mas­sive Micro Sense­mak­ing Project (MMS) led by Annette Markham and Anne Har­ris in May through June 2020 was a self-guid­ed series of prompts con­duct­ed over 21 days. The autoethno­graph­ic chal­lenge was to “build embod­ied sen­si­bil­i­ties towards the mate­r­i­al we study, prac­tice autoethno­graph­ic forms of writ­ing and analy­sis, and trans­form per­son­al expe­ri­ences through this COVID-19 moment into crit­i­cal under­stand­ing of scale, sense­mak­ing, and rela­tion­al­i­ty of humans, non­hu­mans, and the plan­et” (Markham and Har­ris 2020, 1). Engag­ing with the MMS project through embod­ied rela­tion­al­i­ty set the stage for an engage­ment with post dis­cours­es and pri­or­i­tiz­ing the mate­ri­al­ist cri­tique of rep­re­sen­ta­tion through “move­ment, change and the emer­gence of the new” (MacLure 2013, 659). In this case a “more than rep­re­sen­ta­tion­al” Lorimer 2005; Thrift 2008; Thrift & Dews­bury 2000; Con­nell 2013) sense of the sig­nif­i­cance of alter­na­tive educa­tive spaces, informs this arti­cle. Rather than pur­port­ing a seden­tary social progress nar­ra­tive, the role of art­mak­ing prac­tices in pro­mot­ing encoun­ters of care is dis­cussed. A “more-than-rep­re­sen­ta­tion­al” approach has been devised to show how visu­al­ly lay­ered or ren­dered images pro­vide a pow­er­ful ‘voice’ in work­ing with set­tler colo­nial rela­tions and envi­ron­men­tal sen­si­bil­i­ties. Ren­der­ing (Lev­oy 1990) is a com­mon­ly used graph­i­cal tech­nique typ­i­cal­ly uti­lized in com­put­er graph­ics, which I have appro­pri­at­ed for its focus on pho­to­graph­ic lay­er­ing of pix­els through the cast­ing of rays to gen­er­ate image vol­ume and dimen­sion­al­i­ty. In my case, though, ren­der­ing involves the sense­mak­ing of cast­ing and re-cast­ing shadow.

Ren­der­ing images in this way links to cul­tur­al iden­ti­ty and spa­tial con­cepts such as entan­gle­ment, specif­i­cal­ly through the lens of poten­tial­i­ties for inter­nal trans­for­ma­tion (Papaster­giadis 2003). Rather than cul­tur­al iden­ti­ty being seden­tary, fixed to a place, or uni­ver­salised ana­lyt­i­cal­ly, Papaster­giadis employs Michel de Certeau’s (1988) dis­tinc­tion between place and space. The con­sti­tu­tion of self in the world, posi­tion­al­i­ty, and ties to the “con­sti­tu­tive force of space in iden­ti­ty for­ma­tion” (Papaster­giadis 165) are linked to form­ing dynam­ic nar­ra­tives rather than see­ing place as a sta­ble enti­ty. Papaster­giadis notes that “Place is the way in which we inhab­it and arrange our activ­i­ty to inten­si­fy our attach­ment to a par­tic­u­lar ter­ri­to­ry” (165). Pro­vid­ing a con­trast­ing view of space, de Certeau sug­gests that “space exists when one takes into con­sid­er­a­tion vec­tors of direc­tion, veloc­i­ties and time vari­ables … Space occurs as the effect pro­duced by the oper­a­tions that ori­ent it, sit­u­ate it, tem­po­ralise it … Space is a prac­tised place” (1988, 96). To enhance the spa­tial inten­si­ty, force, and qual­i­ties of tem­po­ral­i­ty in my work, I engage proces­su­al walk­ing through arts-based inquiry (Snep­vangers et al., 2019), through a/r/tographic method­ol­o­gy (Irwin 2013; Cutch­er 2015; Lazszik-Cutch­er and Irwin 2017; Lazszik-Cutch­er 2018). To add the vec­tors of ren­der­ing direc­tion­al­i­ty, veloc­i­ty, and time dur­ing lock­down, I woke and observed the same objects and con­sid­ered the poten­tial­i­ty of shad­ows each day. The ques­tion became: how to include and lay­er shad­ow imagery to cre­ate tem­po­ral­i­ty with both con­tem­po­rary objects and issues with his­tor­i­cal import? Grad­u­al­ly adding a short walk­ing rou­tine, I start­ed with the shad­ows in my mir­ror, then I walked to fill my garbage bin (each day) to emp­ty it (each week on a Mon­day), and final­ly as a prac­tice of every­day life I walked around the streetscape block each day. The garbage bins from the unit blocks appear on my walk every Thurs­day in their ser­i­al splen­dour, only to be absent again by about 10:30 am.

The kinds of every­day place mak­ing activ­i­ties under­tak­en dur­ing the pan­dem­ic are not sim­ply then about inten­si­fy­ing my attach­ment to place. In a way, I am already attached, and my sens­ing obser­va­tions are rather spa­tial mean­der­ings about self and microag­gres­sion to form a cir­cuitous route towards mak­ing vis­i­ble the ten­sions and microag­gres­sions extant in Aus­tralian soci­ety. How pre­vi­ous­ly invis­i­ble thoughts and ten­sions have been brought forth through shad­ow ren­der­ing is shown with delib­er­ate direc­tion­al­i­ty, a veloc­i­ty that brings the past into the present, play­ing with temporality.

In arts-based inquiry, such post-qual­i­ta­tive method­olo­gies man­i­fest as “cre­ative assem­blages, artic­u­lat­ed through modes of arts-based, prac­tice-based, artis­tic, research-cre­ation, and in this case, a/r/tographic inquiry” (Sin­ner 2021, 2). Here I am then, sit­u­at­ed in Syd­ney, near Kamay (Botany Bay), New South Wales, Aus­tralia with a key focus on shad­ow imagery as a way of sense­mak­ing in the pan­dem­ic. As Irwin (2013) argues, ener­giz­ing con­tin­u­ous move­ment with new spaces of exchange, rela­tion­al­i­ty, inten­si­ty, and becom­ing are key fea­tures of an a/r/tographic approach. What MMS allowed me to do was to add to a/r/tographic sense­mak­ing by explor­ing “object itin­er­aries as encoun­ters, rather than more com­mon approach­es of object rep­re­sen­ta­tions or object biogra­phies, which retain qual­i­ties of human cen­tered­ness” (Sin­ner 2021, 2). This focus on the per­spec­tive of the object has been devel­oped large­ly from Prompt 2 in the MMS challenge.

Prompt 2—rendering self through object itineraries

My focus in this arti­cle is on Prompt 2/21 in the MMS project, which pro­vid­ed a rich source of mate­r­i­al data from the purview of the object. Prompt 2 asked par­tic­i­pants to:

Take pho­tos of the three most intimate/familiar objects in your lock­down. What have you spent the most time with? Write a cou­ple of para­graphs each from the per­spec­tive of each object (hint: you do NOT have to be the sub­ject of their atten­tion!). Write in the first per­son.” (Markham and Har­ris 2020, 4).

This focus great­ly assist­ed me on mov­ing from my human frailty and anx­i­ety in think­ing through pan­dem­ic expe­ri­ences by pro­vid­ing a strong cat­a­lyst to make a start on the project at the micro lev­el, at home. This is where the shad­ows first appeared. Prompt 2 allowed me the time and space to visu­al­ly focus on inti­mate and famil­iar objects. In this case, fol­low­ing Barad, my mir­ror became ‘live,’ emer­gent, and action­able through a pho­to­graph­ic sen­so­r­i­al phe­nom­e­non of lock­down, as in Fig­ure 1, where:

A phe­nom­e­non is a spe­cif­ic intra-action of an ‘object’; and the ‘mea­sur­ing agen­cies’; the object and the mea­sur­ing agen­cies emerge from, rather than pre­cede, the intra-action that pro­duces them.” (Barad 2007, 128).

Writ­ing from the per­spec­tive of the object caused me to inter­ro­gate pre­vi­ous­ly unthought about, over­looked ideas, feel­ings, and affec­tive image mak­ing with­in my locu­tion­ary gaze. This change in my usu­al pro­ceed­ings start­ed visu­al­ly, pho­to­graph­i­cal­ly, with space for con­tem­plat­ing the dif­frac­tion of a tem­po­ral light phe­nom­e­non and for devel­op­ing new start­ing points for cre­ative art­works and intra-action (Barad 2007, 2003).

Along­side this time-in-place cre­ation, a new emer­gent con­tem­pla­tive space was evolv­ing around my unknown pater­nal ances­try and cul­tur­al iden­ti­ty. Pre­vi­ous exhi­bi­tion and per­for­ma­tive work about trou­bling my pater­nal Indige­nous ances­try in Aus­tralia with the artis­tic col­lec­tive SISTAS Hold­ing Space (2020, 2019, 2018) and my art­works (Snep­vangers 2020, 2019, 2018a, 2018b, and 2018c) began to coa­lesce. A new mode of inquiry began to emerge from the MMS project, focused on ren­der­ing ‘vis­i­ble’ the var­i­ous forms of shad­ow imagery to active­ly inter­ro­gate becom­ing. The modes were gen­er­at­ed using unprece­dent­ed pan­dem­ic think­ing dur­ing social dis­tanc­ing, lock­downs, and quar­an­tine: all terms with his­tor­i­cal class- and race-based prece­dents in the Aus­tralian set­tler colo­nial con­text. Con­cerns with iden­ti­ty, ances­try, and belong­ing as well as an ethics of care have been the sub­ject of my ear­li­er pho­to­graph­ic art­works, films, and per­for­ma­tive pieces (Snep­vangers 2020, 2019, 2018a, 2018b, and 2018c). Typ­i­cal­ly, in non-COVID-19 times, I con­duct my work with SISTAS Hold­ing Space an artis­tic col­lec­tive of Aus­tralian women aca­d­e­m­ic artist researchers, with Abo­rig­i­nal, con­vict, set­tler, and migrant ances­tries. MMS, how­ev­er, gave me per­mis­sion as an indi­vid­ual to slow down and build new embod­ied sen­si­bil­i­ties by con­sid­er­ing new ways to explore under­stand­ings of dis­sent with­in Aus­tralian iden­ti­ty for­ma­tion. Rather than just focus­ing on new obser­va­tion­al foci or mak­ing pre­vi­ous­ly invis­i­ble his­to­ries vis­i­ble, I am inter­est­ed in trou­bling ances­tries and expos­ing dai­ly mis­rep­re­sen­ta­tions that have until now been sit­ting, sear­ing in the back­ground of ten­sions sur­round­ing my unknown cul­tur­al identity.

What is of inter­est is find­ing a visu­al sense-based approach to wel­come Indige­nous Aus­tralian Sov­er­eign­ty along­side envi­ron­men­tal align­ment, espe­cial­ly when your own pater­nal fam­i­ly his­to­ry is not avail­able through west­ern archives, ances­tries, and fam­i­ly tree research. This series of four visu­al ren­der­ings show how atten­tion to sense­mak­ing through local “micro­scop­ic prac­tices of every­day life and inquiry con­nects it with the mas­sive scales and macro­scop­ic aspects of this moment in time” (Markham, Har­ris, and Luka 2020, 1). In this gran­u­lar case, lay­ers of mate­ri­al­i­ty have been adap­tive­ly refined over time to evoke larg­er ten­sions in the con­struc­tion of belong­ing in the Aus­tralian nation state. Visu­al ren­der­ing as a research sen­si­bil­i­ty has been built in two ways: through indi­vid­ual adap­ta­tions in each of the pho­tographs in Fig­ures 1, 2, 4 , and 5; and through the tran­si­tions in the arti­cle itself via mirror>shadow, logo>shadow, row of bins>shadow, and row of bins/filmic cuts>shadow. It is my con­tention that visu­al ren­der­ing of self and microag­gres­sions through an array of objects lay­ered with diverse cast shad­ows grad­u­al­ly builds the vol­ume and inten­si­ty of mean­ing in each pho­to­graph through atten­tion to per­son­al, cul­tur­al, and envi­ron­men­tal sensibilities.

Rendering microaggression

This a/r/tographic inquiry con­cerns the ren­der­ing of self and microag­gres­sion through shad­ow images. Sit­u­at­ed in the set­tler colo­nial nation of Aus­tralia, the con­cept of racial microag­gres­sion (Wong et al., 2014; Sue et al., 2007) is impor­tant to write about. Because it is often an invis­i­ble aspect of microag­gres­sion, often result­ing from a lack of aware­ness, the seem­ing over­lap with overt racism forms part of the set­tler colo­nial present on this con­ti­nent. Set­tler colo­nial­ism is a spe­cif­ic form of colo­nial­ism where an impe­r­i­al non-native metropole—in Australia’s case, the Unit­ed Kingdom—invades Indige­nous lands and estab­lish­es per­ma­nent set­tle­ments. Aileen More­ton-Robin­son (2015), Patrick Wolfe (2006), and Loren­zo Veraci­ni (2015) have described some ongo­ing effects of set­tler colo­nial­ism on own­er­ship of con­quered lands, extrac­tion of nat­ur­al resources, exploita­tion of con­quered work­forces, and inter­gen­er­a­tional trauma.

Nest­ing with­in every­day expe­ri­ence, racial microag­gres­sions are “brief and com­mon­place dai­ly ver­bal, behav­iour­al, or envi­ron­men­tal indig­ni­ties, whether inten­tion­al or unin­ten­tion­al, that com­mu­ni­cate hos­tile, deroga­to­ry, or neg­a­tive (racial) slights and insults towards peo­ple of colour” (Sue et al. 2007, 271). After ini­tial­ly con­tem­plat­ing self/object rela­tions through the MMS Prompt 2 as in Fig­ure 1: The Mir­ror in My Room, these begin­ning obser­va­tions were not under the purview of think­ing about racialised microag­gres­sion. How­ev­er, after my ambling text/photo work over the first few days of the MMS prompts, racialised microag­gres­sion emerged to address wor­ri­some local obser­va­tions such as the coun­cil logo on my garbage bin, then how that logo filled near­by streets in the rows of bins on garbage col­lec­tion day, as in Fig­ure 2. I grad­u­al­ly came to see how these ideas nest­ed with­in some of the main ideas in my exhibition/research regard­ing the trou­bling of my per­son­al ances­try and the invis­i­bil­i­ties of his­tor­i­cal colo­nial microaggression.

The local coun­cil logo on my garbage bin enabled my think­ing about the ten­sions inher­ent in ‘dis­cov­ery’ nar­ra­tives which abound in Aus­tralia. In First Nation/settler rela­tions the term is a key point of ten­sion in colo­nial time­line his­to­ries, for exam­ple, where Aus­tralia was pur­port­ed­ly ‘dis­cov­ered’ by Cap­tain James Cook. Ten­sion sur­rounds the pas­sive accep­tance of this event in the his­tor­i­cal record, described mere­ly as an ‘encounter’ between First Nation peo­ples and British invaders. Such ten­sions are evi­dent today even as we fill and emp­ty our garbage bins. Specif­i­cal­ly, the logo on my garbage bin (Fig­ure 2) came fur­ther into focus dur­ing lock­down, as I was remind­ed each and every-day of the pan­dem­ic in a focused way, not pos­si­ble before the MMS project.

The garbage bin in my per­son­al localised micro space was then log­i­cal­ly extend­ed for me into an inves­ti­ga­tion of oth­er com­mu­ni­ty mem­bers’ local garbage bins in the larg­er street space. The street space dur­ing lock­down was the lim­it of my ref­er­ence for the MMS project, and Fig­ure 3 was tak­en at a lat­er point to illus­trate the per­va­sive­ness of the dis­cov­ery nar­ra­tive in Aus­tralian parks through geo­graph­ic nam­ing con­ven­tions, such as “Cook Park” on Kamay-Botany Bay. The envi­ron­men­tal indig­ni­ty and microag­gres­sion of putting so many indi­vid­ual bins out on a Thurs­day morn­ing, from one unit block in a com­mu­ni­ty streetscape as in Fig­ures 4 and 5, points to fur­ther indig­ni­ties, through the rep­e­ti­tion of the logo again and again. The myr­i­ad of bins lined up, and seem­ing­ly all the same, reveal a kind of envi­ron­men­tal microag­gres­sion: an attack on the very con­cept of sus­tain­abil­i­ty, revealed through the shad­ows of the street and my cast shad­ow. The next sec­tion com­mences with a dis­cus­sion of how shad­ow the­o­ris­ing pro­vides a point of cre­ative insight about how my pho­to­graph­ic ren­der­ings emerged.

In all of the shad­ow images I am there, albeit only partially.

Why mirrors and shadows?

Many the­o­rists and artists have enter­tained con­cep­tions of shad­ows, and the con­comi­tant con­cept of shades of dark­ness, in their writ­ing and prac­tice. An exam­ple of the emerg­ing sig­nif­i­cance of shad­ow work can be seen in the instal­la­tion of a con­tem­po­rary First Nation artist, Daniel Boyd’s “Ped­i­ment: Imped­i­ment” (2021) (https://​www​.syd​ney​.edu​.au/​m​u​s​e​u​m​/​n​e​w​s​/​2​0​2​0​/​1​1​/​1​8​/​r​e​f​r​a​m​i​n​g​-​t​h​e​-​e​n​l​i​g​h​t​e​n​m​e​n​t​.​h​tml in the exhi­bi­tion “Refram­ing the Enlight­en­ment.” Sig­nal­ing the effi­ca­cy of ques­tion­ing received muse­um objects through shad­ow, Boyd’s work has an affin­i­ty with Edouard Glis­sant. Specif­i­cal­ly, how ideas of dark­ness can be utilised as an oppos­ing force to light, and in this case as a form of resis­tance to Enlight­en­ment and West­ern civil­i­sa­tion in the art muse­um context.

A few exam­ples of the­o­rists with rel­e­vance to my broad­er research include: ren­der­ing thought pat­terns through cast shad­ow vocab­u­lar­ies in paint­ing (Gom­brich 1995); ques­tion­ing the moral and edu­ca­tion­al­ly hid­den aspects of the econ­o­my through the con­cept of shad­ow work (Illich 1981); and rais­ing con­scious­ness of the inter­play of cul­tur­al oppres­sion and resis­tance through con­cepts such as the “shad­ow beast” (Anzaldúa 1987). Rather than pro­vid­ing an explana­to­ry text regard­ing each the­o­rist, for the pur­pos­es of this (MMS) project I have focused on the mechan­ics of pro­duc­tion of ideas as they relate to Glo­ria Anzaldúa’s mir­ror work. Entry to the arti­cle through con­cep­tu­al­iz­ing mir­ror and shad­ow in this way seemed the most appro­pri­ate course of action.

Anzaldúa com­ments on three aspects of the mir­ror in the con­text of set­ting forth what she calls the “Coatlicue” state. First, she describes her moth­er putting blan­kets over the mir­rors when her father died, as she thought her moth­er “knew that the mir­ror was a door through which the soul may ‘pass’ to the oth­er side” (42). Her moth­er did not want the chil­dren to fol­low. Next, Anzaldúa notes that the mir­ror is “an ambiva­lent sym­bol – [it] repro­duces images (the twins that stand for the­sis and antithe­sis); it con­tains and absorbs them’ (42). Final­ly, the aspect that informs my text/image work is where the mir­ror is the very act of see­ing itself: “See­ing and being seen. Sub­ject and object, I, and she. The eye pins down the object of its gaze, scru­ti­nizes it, judges it. A glance can freeze us in place; it can ‘pos­sess’ us. It can erect a bar­ri­er against the world. But in a glance also lies aware­ness, knowl­edge. These seem­ing­ly con­tra­dic­to­ry aspects-the act of being seen, held immo­bi­lized by a glance, and ‘see­ing through’ an expe­ri­ence […] clus­ter in what I call the Coatlicue state” (Anzaldúa 1987, 42). Anzaldúa’s work ques­tions oppres­sion and resis­tance of sys­tems-based think­ing, through obser­va­tions of self from the per­spec­tive of the unsaid. I link mir­rors to shad­ows and shad­ows to vis­i­bil­i­ty as a form of resis­tance to the unsaid.

Rendering #1 mirror>shadow: The Mirror in My Room.

This visu­al ren­der­ing start­ed in the inti­ma­cy of my thoughts as I awoke inside my home, through the com­ple­tion of Prompt 2. This reflec­tive piece focused on the first thing I see each day, a mir­ror, a her­itage piece of fur­ni­ture made of Aus­tralian red cedar. My response to the prompt, focused on the per­spec­tive of one object, is visu­al (see Fig­ure 1: The Mir­ror in My Room, 2020) as well as textual:

These three pho­tos are of the one object, my mir­ror in my room; the first thing I see each day and I am the first thing this mir­ror sees each day. Yet, it was not until this moment that we became knowl­edge­able about each other’s know­ing. First­ly, my angle of view is sit­u­at­ed in a down­cast light with amaz­ing shad­owy pat­tern­ing on my face now see­ing and being seen in a new light. My light­ing is dark­ly fas­ci­nat­ing as it mobilis­es from the sliv­ers of morn­ing light to awak­en with each oth­er in the same space. I have been present for many tra­di­tion­al mile­stones in your life, your wed­ding, grac­ing your parent’s room and being an authen­tic wood­en antique, as opposed to shit­board (Aus­tralian slang for cheap wood). I have trav­elled each day with you although the every­day nuances of my being have until today, escaped you. Today, we have come into being, into a rela­tion with each oth­er, one that we can nev­er unsee. I/we could not get past this one object of reflec­tion which became fas­ci­nat­ing to the point of rem­i­nisc­ing about each oth­er and artists who use shad­owy tones and pat­terned light­ing to evoke tem­po­ral­i­ty and to cap­ture moments in time. Each moment to moment is diverse in its pass­ing and inti­ma­cy, with light the dri­ving life­force of wake­ful­ness and phys­i­cal­i­ty, revealed through lacon­ic wak­ing as a muta­tion of pan­dem­ic liv­ing. Thank you for the 3 famil­iar objects prompt, maybe we can move on the oth­er two soon …” (Snep­vangers, May 23, 2020)

Figure 1: The Mirror in My Room, 2020. Image by the author.

Anzaldúa’s Coatlicue state of using the mir­ror and the morn­ing shad­ows, light, and see­ing through an expe­ri­ence is tak­en up quite lit­er­al­ly in my work in Fig­ure 1. The addi­tion of shad­ows to mir­ror work brings forth Anzaldúa’s con­cept of the shad­ow beast. Whilst not hav­ing enough time or space here to delve into the work of the shad­ow beast, the con­cept implies fur­ther research, as it is a ‘rebel’ state that “refus­es to take orders from my con­scious will, it threat­ens the sov­er­eign­ty of my ruler­ship” (Anzaldúa 1987, 16).

From the qui­et con­tem­pla­tion of my room, I am present yet trans­par­ent, seem­ing­ly lost in the wil­lowy reflec­tions and dark­ness of the ear­ly morn­ing light. From this place of pow­er, cocooned in my bed, I real­ized the poten­tial­i­ty for an object-led itin­er­ary, fueled by a type of ‘shad­ow beast.’ I felt ener­gized and decid­ed to tack­le with inten­si­ty some sys­tems-based objects (the garbage bin logo and the rows of garbage bins) in my imme­di­ate purview using visu­al ren­der­ing as an artis­tic exchange.

Rendering #2 logo>shadow: Image of Self in the Recovery Bin Logo from Kamay – (Botany Bay).

This sec­ond sce­nario presents a review of rela­tion­ships beyond bina­ries, and takes lit­er­al­ly my local coun­cil logo and its nam­ing con­ven­tion. Each logo has been earnest­ly tat­tooed onto garbage bins to last through geo­log­i­cal time. In this case, time is a mun­dane and sec­u­lar thing though, as only some, not all bins in the local gov­ern­ment area have this spe­cif­ic logo, as the coun­cils amal­ga­mat­ed some years ago. The point is that the mun­dane, the sec­u­lar, and the every­day mate­ri­al­i­ty of logos and text do last a long, long time, so it is impor­tant to see what the logo is and what is not. The seri­al­i­ty of use—daily, week­ly, and bi-week­ly trips to and with the bins, as well as emp­ty­ing rituals—breeds a famil­iar­i­ty that masks the mean­ing and sig­nif­i­cance of what is on the bin. The pan­dem­ic has allowed a focus on what is typ­i­cal­ly overlooked.

Just out­side my house, with­in the front yard, my review of sit­u­at­ed­ness unearthed the fol­low­ing. On my bin, and no doubt more out­dat­ed coun­cil ephemera such as land rate notices, the text is as fol­lows (see image detail in Fig­ure 2: Image of Self in the Recov­ery Bin Logo from Kamay-(Botany Bay), 2020):

Garbage & Organ­ics Recov­ery Bin

Rock­dale City Council

On His­toric Botany Bay”

Figure 2: Image of Self in the Recovery Bin Logo from Kamay – (Botany Bay), 2020. Image by the author.

I live in Kamay (Botany Bay) in the micro-con­text, yet the broad­er con­text extends in mul­ti­far­i­ous ways. The ways this image can be unpacked are myr­i­ad and man­i­fest. Until recent­ly, the per­spec­tive of First Nation Aus­tralians and the Gamayn­gal peo­ple of this area of Kamay (Botany Bay)1 have not been pri­ori­tised and have indeed been over­looked. A recent Nation­al Muse­um of Aus­tralia exhi­bi­tion details the miss­ing per­spec­tive of First Nations Aus­tralians through doc­u­men­ta­tion about the land­ing of James Cook in Aus­tralia on 29 April, 1770 when at 34°00’16” South 151°13’04” East:

It was at Kamay (Botany Bay) that James Cook first set foot on the Aus­tralian con­ti­nent. His land­ing was chal­lenged by two men from the Gwea­gal clan of the Dharaw­al nation, stand­ing on the beach.” (Kamay - Botany Bay Exhi­bi­tion, Nation­al Muse­um of Aus­tralia, 2020).

The sig­nif­i­cance of the exhi­bi­tion is that the remit for the Aus­tralian Nation­al Muse­um mis­sion and val­ues address­es key debates and issues across all Aus­tralian States and Ter­ri­to­ries. The micro loca­tion and sig­nif­i­cance of place there­fore tran­scends localised con­cerns, and spa­tial­ly inserts a cul­tur­al and macro-con­cep­tu­al debate about nation­al imagery, con­tes­ta­tion, and nation­hood into the prac­tice of every­day vis­its to the sea­side. This eco­log­i­cal­ly locates my work in the prac­tice of space as a tem­po­ral present-day phe­nom­e­non with unfin­ished his­tor­i­cal ren­der­ings still present in every­day life.

Figure 3: Looking towards the Heads of Botany Bay (Kamay) from Cook Park, Bayside Council, Sans Souci, 2020. Image by the author.

In Fig­ure 3 you can see the empha­sis of claim­ing of ter­ri­to­ry through coun­cil sig­nage and through the erec­tion of mon­u­ments of James Cook’s ship, the Endeav­our, which you can see on the right-hand side of the image. One con­stru­al is about ten­sions sur­round­ing the 250 years since the HMB Endeavour’s Voy­age, and the cel­e­bra­tions,2 planned for 2020, of the so-called ‘dis­cov­ery’ of Aus­tralia. The spe­cif­ic micro con­text of where I live is a con­stant, potent point of irri­ta­tion regard­ing the macro con­text of con­test­ed nation­al imagery involved with Cook’s ‘dis­cov­ery’ nar­ra­tive. For exam­ple, in 2017, a promi­nent Aus­tralian jour­nal­ist stat­ed that the inscrip­tion on a stat­ue of the British explor­er Cap­tain James Cook locat­ed in Sydney’s Hyde Park was a “dam­ag­ing myth” (Grant 2017). In an opin­ion piece, jour­nal­ist Stan Grant, a Wirad­juri man, argued for his­tor­i­cal accu­ra­cy. He con­test­ed the inscrip­tion on the stat­ue, which states that Aus­tralia was dis­cov­ered by Cook in 1770, a descrip­tion that for him aligns with the nation­al nar­ra­tive of Australia’s dis­cov­ery by the British, and omits recog­ni­tion of the country’s Indige­nous inhab­i­tants . Intense debate fol­lowed this arti­cle, with some politi­cians sound­ing the alarm over the rewrit­ing of his­to­ry. Mean­while, this exam­ple high­lights how nation­al imagery in Aus­tralia is under­go­ing a phase of con­tes­ta­tion and enquiry about the mean­ing and con­nect­ed­ness of nation­al nar­ra­tives (Gio­vanan­geli and Snep­vangers 2016).

In Fig­ure 2, you can see the logo, as well as the slight­ly scratched and erased pati­na on the word­ing, the con­tent of which has been a source of amaze­ment and ten­sion for me for a long, long time. It is only now, dur­ing a peri­od of some­what forced reflec­tion and non-hier­ar­chi­cal think­ing beyond the work­place, that I can bring forth this con­cen­tra­tion. For exam­ple, the seem­ing­ly closed bina­ry of the two males on the logo on either side of a tra­di­tion­al heraldic shield is inset with an Endeav­our-type ship. The com­mem­o­ra­tive aspects of this so called ‘First Encounter’ set out an agen­da of colo­nial sea­far­ing suprema­cy and a strong mar­itime-esque male­ness on the lef,t along­side an Abo­rig­i­nal and Tor­res Strait Islander fig­ure on the right. The ten­sion is pal­pa­ble in the con­text of Aus­tralia as a set­tler-colo­nial nation. For a start, each fig­ure has a weapon at hand, yet the local coun­cil, through the lens of the logo, seems obliv­i­ous to any con­test­ed prac­tice. In oth­er words, the dual­i­ty of the visu­al logo sets up an inter­play of text and image that mir­rors the out­mod­ed­ness of the word­ing “garbage and recov­ery” in many nuanced ways. By plac­ing myself in the image as a blurred fig­ure, indis­tinct yet muta­ble, in lock down, I float in and out of the enmesh­ment, at once at home and away. This visu­al ren­der­ing is speak­ing back to the half-said. Away­ness is felt and pal­pa­ble, as the con­ven­tions of logos and text often become unques­tioned his­to­ries, espe­cial­ly in places of con­test­ed his­tor­i­cal sig­nif­i­cance, such as ’On His­toric Botany Bay.” Plac­ing myself out­side as the pho­tog­ra­ph­er and with­in as the pho­tographed brings an inter­play into being, becom­ing, and cre­at­ing. As a per­son work­ing with Abo­rig­i­nal Cul­tur­al Men­tors to make vis­i­ble my hid­den ances­try, the sig­nif­i­cance of uncov­er­ing microag­gres­sion in plain sight in every­day life is of para­mount impor­tance. My 25-year his­to­ry of work­ing in visu­al arts edu­ca­tion across diverse sites has main­tained a focus on work­ing with Abo­rig­i­nal men­tors, and this remains a key con­cen­tra­tion in my exhi­bi­tion and per­for­ma­tive work.

Rendering #3 row of bins>shadow: Image of Self in Row of Recycling Bins from Kamay – (Botany Bay).

My focus on bina­ries and lay­er­ing rela­tion­ships through visu­al ren­der­ing con­tin­ued on my dai­ly walk around the block from my house (see Fig­ure 4: Image of Self in Row of Recy­cling Bins from Kamay-(Botany Bay), 2020).

Figure 4: Image of Self in Row of Recycling Bins from Kamay – (Botany Bay), 2020. Image by the author.

The MMS project and the excess time at home dur­ing the pan­dem­ic spa­tial­ly forced my focus on garbage bins. Stay­ing at home sharp­ened my obser­va­tions of dai­ly pro­ce­dures and his­tor­i­cal ten­sions, espe­cial­ly stem­ming from the ini­tial focus on my own garbage and recov­ery bin in my front yard. This grew to a com­mu­nal inter­est. This is because the logo on my bin is repeat­ed all over the sub­urb, and indeed the whole coun­cil area, thus rein­forc­ing his­tor­i­cal events from the per­spec­tive of the dom­i­nant vic­tor. Such indig­ni­ties are hid­den in plain sight, yet it took this project for me to be able to ren­der a cre­ative response. In Fig­ure 4, I am present, wit­ness­ing this accu­mu­la­tion, as a sol­id shad­ow, cast­ing a light on the events and activ­i­ties, yet spa­tial­ly sep­a­rat­ed from the sys­tem that sus­tains and sup­ports these shad­owy renderings.

The visu­al ele­ments of the bins are over­whelm­ing and intrigu­ing at the same time; exact­ly how do you logis­ti­cal­ly ser­vice such an enter­prise? Pro­vid­ing a full-time job for a per­son who took the bins in and out—this Thurs­day morn­ing affair has social effects, par­tic­u­lar­ly around the demean­ing of the streetscape as a pleas­ant place to live, and logis­ti­cal­ly as a garbage trans­porta­tion night­mare. The street becomes blocked when the garbage truck arrives, and the mechan­i­cal actions required to emp­ty the bins con­tin­ue for quite some time. The place­ment of the garbage bins affects the social rela­tion­ships among neigh­bors, as there are just so many clus­ter­ing along the walk­way. The old­er part of the sub­urb and streetscape, where I live, does not have the same visu­al and struc­tur­al imped­i­ments, yet this new­er garbage and ser­vice arrange­ment just seems to cre­ate a focus on the unsus­tain­able nature of garbage recov­ery. Per­haps the visu­al ele­ments of accu­mu­la­tion also served to cre­ate an impres­sion of unsus­tain­abil­i­ty, which I had pre­vi­ous­ly over­looked; yet unsus­tain­abil­i­ty, like the logo on each bin, is seem­ing­ly over­looked by a range of indi­vid­u­als and collectives.

Rendering #4 row of bins/filmic cuts>shadow: Filmic Cuts of Recycling Bins from Number 95, Streetscape in Kamay – (Botany Bay).

Fig­ure 5: Filmic Cuts of Recy­cling Bins from Num­ber 95, Streetscape in Kamay – (Botany Bay), 2020. Images by the author.

The rea­son for the close ups is that the logos are dif­fer­ent on each of the seem­ing­ly sim­i­lar garbage bins. The logo which was the sub­ject of Fig­ure 2 is found on some, with two new­er ver­sions (minus the Abo­rig­i­nal per­son) on sev­er­al of the oth­er bins. Some bins have the lids raised, some are com­plete­ly open, some closed, a cou­ple fall­en over… as the after­math of the bin emp­ty­ing pro­ce­dure is laid bare. The filmic cut (Fig­ure 5) and cast shad­ow image (Fig­ure 4) pro­vide a chal­lenge to seri­al­i­ty as same­ness, lim­it­ing the actions of indi­vid­ual bins, for exam­ple, as they are not gener­ic and have social con­structs that open the pos­si­bil­i­ty of resis­tance and non-com­pli­ance. These are some of my ini­tial thoughts on the sus­tain­abil­i­ty of bin col­lec­tion at the sys­tem-lev­el, espe­cial­ly about the pos­si­bil­i­ty of garbage recov­ery and what this might mean. Yet, I am ground­ed in the thought that these are garbage bins with lit­tle or no street appeal. Sec­ondary to the bin itself is the logo, with its his­tor­i­cal bina­ries and Cap­tain Cook, so I am plac­ing hope in ques­tion­ing and even con­tra­dict­ing the orig­i­nal usage and inten­tion of each object in this article.

Shadowy final thoughts

Render­ing self and mak­ing microa­gres­sions vis­i­ble through the mir­ror shad­ow image, the half shad­ow and the half-said (jagodzin­s­ki 2002) is a way of mak­ing lived expe­ri­ences vis­i­ble dur­ing the pan­dem­ic. Mak­ing feel­ings vis­i­ble through intimate/familiar objects (such as the mir­ror in my room, my garbage bin, and garbage bins in the next street of my local com­mu­ni­ty) takes a close look at the pow­er of tan­gi­ble arte­facts of time and place. These objects from a very small perime­ter around my home at the micro lev­el have been on a type of object itin­er­ary them­selves. Yet each ren­dered object is linked through an intan­gi­ble, per­son­al, yet fleet­ing shad­ow image to pre­vi­ous­ly invis­i­ble, yet deeply felt sen­si­bil­i­ties at the mas­sive lev­el in set­tler colo­nial Australia.

Through an inves­ti­ga­tion of micro exis­tence from my every­day life, liv­ing near Kamay (Botany Bay), I seek to visu­al­ly gen­er­ate new ren­der­ings of mate­r­i­al data. This work is nec­es­sary when your per­son­al ances­try is also invis­i­ble. The modes have been gen­er­at­ed using unprece­dent­ed pan­dem­ic think­ing to chal­lenge received his­to­ries. These new modes con­cen­trate on slow veloc­i­ties, walk­a­ble dis­tances, and ten­sion dri­ven direc­tion­al­i­ty to cre­ate lay­ers of mean­ing through dif­fer­ent shad­ow work mobil­i­ties. Through the qua­si-dark­ness of mir­ror­ing, blur­ring effects, cast­ing shad­ows on seri­al­i­ty, and cre­at­ing filmic cuts, some dark­ly focused research sen­si­bil­i­ties have now been ren­dered. How­ev­er, the objects are nest­ed with­in a poten­tial­i­ty for tra­vers­ing ten­sions from the per­spec­tive of shin­ing a light on every­day objects.

Rec­og­niz­ing the per­son­al with­in the larg­er dark­ness implied by shad­ow has been ren­dered in the fol­low­ing ways:

  • (mirror>shadow in Fig­ure 1)—Individual to envi­ron­men­tal inter­face: to explain per­son to envi­ron­ment interactions;
  • (logo>shadow in Fig­ure 2)—Individual to rela­tion­ships: to dia­log­i­cal­ly increase peo­ple-envi­ron­ment transactions;
  • (row of bins>shadow in Fig­ure 4)—Individual to localised knowledge/community: to nur­ture change with­in par­tic­u­lar environments;
  • (row of bins/filmic cuts>shadow in Fig­ure 5)—Individual to sys­tem: to expand envi­ron­ments so they sup­port expres­sion of an individual’s sys­tem dispositions.

While con­nect­ed through my move­ment, these ren­der­ings also high­light serendip­i­ty through the mir­ror gaze, with me lit­er­al­ly being rep­re­sent­ed in the work in Fig­ure 1; through reflec­tive ren­der­ing of self in a vague shad­ow in a cul­tur­al­ly reflec­tive gaze in Fig­ure 2; then through an actu­al cast shad­ow of myself high­light­ing the sig­nif­i­cance of rep­e­ti­tion in cement­ing invis­i­ble ten­sions in Fig­ure 4; then, final­ly, through an abstract­ed dis­lo­ca­tion of shad­ows to cre­ate a filmic cut. Here the appar­ent con­ti­nu­ity is the result of hid­den cuts—a metaphor for the way seam­less­ness and unre­mark­a­bil­i­ty oper­ate and become com­plic­it in every­day life and expe­ri­ences. Hence the impor­tance of more than rep­re­sen­ta­tion­al think­ing when I was unable to go about typ­i­cal day to day activities.

My art­works cre­ate cap­ture some habit­u­at­ed rou­tines that main­tain invis­i­ble micro-aggres­sions hid­den in plain sight. By exam­in­ing ways of under­stand­ing locu­tion­ary posi­tion­al­i­ty with­in the scope of a sin­gle geo­graph­ic coun­cil area, sta­t­ic and pre-deter­mined notions of his­tor­i­cal supe­ri­or­i­ty and the pow­er of col­lec­tiv­i­ty can be chal­lenged. The chal­lenge for me is to the­o­rize the mis­guid­ed assump­tions of indi­vid­ual free­dom that have been revealed dur­ing this project. In terms of my per­son­al ances­try, MMS pro­vid­ed an oppor­tu­ni­ty to re-vis­it cre­ative, arto­graph­ic ways of being, as well as expose my pre­vi­ous lack of macro­scop­ic impli­ca­tions of the self in terms of capac­i­ties for autonomous action. Focus­ing on the sys­tem and the mechan­ics of pro­duc­tion that main­tain and sup­port microag­gres­sions in plain site/sight has emerged from the ren­der­ing shad­ow imagery in my dai­ly walks and obser­va­tions. Through visu­al images that move towards con­tem­po­rary pos­si­bil­i­ties of recla­ma­tion, this project cre­ates entan­gle­ments of Self, the Oth­er, and the World with a provoca­tive gaze that focus­es on the sys­tem itself.

Works Cited

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Barad, Karen. “Posthu­man Per­for­ma­tiv­i­ty: Toward an under­stand­ing of How Mat­ter Comes to Mat­ter.” Jour­nal of Women in Cul­ture and Soci­ety, vol. 28, no. 3, 2003, pp. 801-831.

Barad, Karen. Meet­ing the Uni­verse Halfway: Quan­tum Physics and the Entan­gle­ment of Mat­ter and Mean­ing. Duke Uni­ver­si­ty Press, 2007.

Bun­da, Tracey, et al. Per­for­ma­tive Trou­bling of Aus­tralian Ances­tries: SISTAS Hold­ing Space. Exper­i­men­tal per­for­mance in Activism@Margins: Sto­ries of Resis­tance, Sur­vival and Social Change Con­fer­ence, RMIT Uni­ver­si­ty, School of Media and Com­mu­ni­ca­tion, Dig­i­tal Ethnog­ra­phy Research Cen­tre. Capi­tol The­atre and Mel­bourne Town Hall, Mel­bourne, Feb­ru­ary 2020.

Bun­da, Tracey, et al. Sto­ries of belong­ing: black and white artivist women tell, sing, dance, paint, sculpt, stitch ances­try and place. Any­where Fes­ti­val in Kuril Dha­gun Indige­nous Talk­ing Cir­cle Space, State Library of Queens­land, Bris­bane, May 2018.

Con­nell, Raewyn. “The neolib­er­al cas­cade and edu­ca­tion: an essay on the mar­ket agen­da and its con­se­quences.” Crit­i­cal Stud­ies in Edu­ca­tion, vol. 54, no. 2, 2013, pp. 99–112.

Cutch­er, Alexan­dra et al. “Find­ings, wind­ings and entwin­ings: Car­togra­phies of col­lab­o­ra­tive walk­ing and encounter.” Inter­na­tion­al Jour­nal of Edu­ca­tion through Art, vol. 11, no. 3, 2015, pp. 449-549. doi: 10.1386/eta.11.3.449_1.

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Grant, Stan. ‘It is a ’Dam­ag­ing Myth’ that Cap­tain Cook Dis­cov­ered Aus­tralia.’ ABC News, 23 August, 2017. http://​www​.abc​.net​.au/​n​e​w​s​/​2​0​1​7​-​0​8​-​2​3​/​s​t​a​n​-​g​r​a​n​t​:​-​d​a​m​a​g​i​n​g​-​m​y​t​h​-​c​a​p​t​a​i​n​-​c​o​o​k​-​d​i​s​c​o​v​e​r​e​d​-​a​u​s​t​r​a​l​i​a​/​8​8​3​3​536. Accessed 26 Novem­ber 2021.

Gom­brich, Ernst. Hans. Shad­ows: The Depic­tion of Cast Shad­ows in West­ern Art. Lon­don: Nation­al Gallery Pub­li­ca­tions, Yale Uni­ver­si­ty Press, 1995.

Illich, Ivan. Shad­ow Work. Mar­i­on Boyars, 1981.

Irwin, Rita. “Becom­ing A/r/tography.” Stud­ies in Art Edu­ca­tion, vol. 54, no. 3, 2013, pp. 198-215.

Jagodzin­s­ki, Jan. “A strange intro­duc­tion: my apple thing. ped­a­gog­i­cal desire: author­i­ty, seduc­tion, trans­fer­ence, and the ques­tion of ethics.” Praeger, pp. xiii–lx, 2002.

Kamay – Botany Bay, Endeav­our Voy­age. Nation­al Muse­um of Aus­tralia Exhi­bi­tion, 2020. https://​www​.nma​.gov​.au/​e​x​h​i​b​i​t​i​o​n​s​/​e​n​d​e​a​v​o​u​r​-​v​o​y​a​g​e​/​k​a​m​a​y​-​b​o​t​a​n​y​-​bay. Accessed 26 Novem­ber 2021.

Lasczik-Cutch­er, Alexan­dra. Mov­ing-with & mov­ing-through home­lands, lan­guages & mem­o­ry: an arts-based walkog­ra­phy. Sense Pub­lish­ers, 2018.

Lasczik-Cutch­er, Alexan­dra, and Irwin, Rita. “Walk­ings-through paint: A c/a/r/tography of slow schol­ar­ship.” Jour­nal of Cur­ricu­lum and Ped­a­gogy, vol. 14, no. 2, 2017, pp. 116-124. doi:10.1080/15505170.2017.1310680.

Lev­oy, Marc. “Vol­ume ren­der­ing by adap­tive refine­ment.” The Visu­al Com­put­er, vol. 6, pp. 2–7 1990. doi​.org/​1​0​.​1​0​0​7​/​B​F​0​1​9​0​2​624.

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Image Notes

Fig­ure 1: The Mir­ror in My Room, 2020. Image by the author.

Fig­ure 2: Image of Self in the Recov­ery Bin Logo from Kamay – (Botany Bay), 2020. Image by the author.

Fig­ure 3: Look­ing towards the Heads of Botany Bay (Kamay) from Cook Park, Bay­side Coun­cil, Sans Souci, 2020. Image by the author.

Fig­ure 4: Image of Self in Row of Recy­cling Bins from Kamay – (Botany Bay), 2020. Image by the author.

Fig­ure 5: Filmic Cuts of Recy­cling Bins from Num­ber 95, Streetscape in Kamay – (Botany Bay), 2020. Images by the author.

Notes

  1. (https://​www​.nma​.gov​.au/​e​x​h​i​b​i​t​i​o​n​s​/​e​n​d​e​a​v​o​u​r​-​v​o​y​a​g​e​/​k​a​m​a​y​-​b​o​t​a​n​y​-​bay) and https://​www​.syd​ney​barani​.com​.au/​s​i​t​e​s​/​a​b​o​r​i​g​i​n​a​l​-​p​e​o​p​l​e​-​a​n​d​-​p​l​a​ce/

  2. (https://​www​.endeav​our250​.gov​.au/)