Stanley is a small town on a wild peninsula in North-Western Tasmania. It sits on the edge of the sea in the shadow of a gigantic volcanic plug called The Nut, that towers over the historic weatherboard buildings, the curving beaches and the harbour. As well as the rugged landscape of The Nut and the quirky buildings, what really caught my attention was the weather - wild gusts of wind, occasional rain and flashes of bright sunshine. This is what I wanted to capture. I worked small (A4 size) as the wind and rain made larger paper unwieldy and hard to handle. I stood leaning my board on a railing as the wind battered us from the sea. Some nights I would return to this location to watch Little Penguins toddle ashore to their burrows. I crouched in the shelter of the headland looking up at The Nut as ever-changing clouds raced across the wild skies. I added shadows and subtracted light and looked and looked and looked, collecting moments on my paper. It was exhilarating! So different to sitting inside and painting in comfort. 

Plein-eir art is not for the faint hearted. We had wind, rain and also times of summer heat, our bags were packed with puffer jackets, raincoats as well as sunscreen and sunhats.

In the Tarkine rainforest, there were other considerations too. On our first day we stopped at various locations on the way to Corinna where we would be based. This time, there was intermittent rain that slowed just enough for some quick sketches before becoming more insistent. The bus lurched up and down slopes of unpaved road in the driving rain, artists tucked safely in our seats as we watched the landscape flash by outside and trusted the skill of our driver to navigate the rough road made more treacherous with all the water.

The rainforest is full of contrasts - bursting with life and decaying and dissolving, foggy and clear, dappled with light and dark with shadows. And there were mosquitoes. I did many walks around Corinna. On one of them, along the Whyte River track, my eye was caught by a grove of tree ferns, the dark trunks and the sun streaking light through their leaves. I decided to stop and draw them. Almost immediately I was set on by a cloud of mosquitoes. I pulled up the hood on my raincoat, placed my hat over it and drew my sleeves down so the only flesh available was my face and my hands. These I moved at great speed over the paper - charcoal and eraser flying. I do work fast, but this time I worked faster. This is the result. Can you feel the mosquitoes?