Buladelah: a non-place, a place where a busy highway carries people on the way to somewhere else, where a community is poised for imminent transition. The township is on the verge of being made obsolete by the Pacific Highway by-pass. I have a connection to the place through ancestors that moved there in the late 1800s. I felt intuitively led to three sites close to the main town centre; the town acted as a kind of membrane, a processor of information. At these sites I inscribed my questions onto the post-it notes as they came to me. An offering was made to the river, the track and toward the mountain. These notes were received by the water, the earth and the wood: a transaction. The notes and actions were a conduit and construct for spontaneous, fleeting relationship and memorial. Perhaps the exchange of the river, the track and the mountain was speaking to my genetic code… or speaking about what human and cultural capital is being exchanged, lost and gained in this membrane-place.
[Video of performance coming soon…]