A STRANGE LOOP
AYANA LOKHANDWALA
CAITLYNN AMORES
LONG NGUYEN
NEVE ELLIOTT
At first glance, the grasslands of the Victorian Volcanic Plains appear more or less as it has always done; a cascading landscape of monotonous dull golden plains. A haze of soft colours with no real discernible features. The flat land is enlivened only by the breeze rippling across the swathes of dry grasses. Losing interest their eyes blur.
They stand on the road and wait.
They do not see themselves reflected in this landscape, it is too lacking, too ordinary. It verges on ubiquity, on universality, untethered to the notion of Australia; it is unrecognisable in the national canon of outback, reef, eucalypt forest. How could, why would, anyone see themselves, ephemerally or otherwise, as part of these plains? More precisely why would they care about what happens here?
They stand on the road and wait.
They do not see themselves reflected in this landscape, it is too lacking, too ordinary. It verges on ubiquity, on universality, untethered to the notion of Australia; it is unrecognisable in the national canon of outback, reef, eucalypt forest. How could, why would, anyone see themselves, ephemerally or otherwise, as part of these plains? More precisely why would they care about what happens here?