We all belong here.

A group of people talking about what loneliness represents to them, being isolated and each having their own individual experiences with loneliness. But on the other hand, it’s a group of people who together feel lonely and end up connected.

An interpretation of the quiet resilience required to hold yourself together, of reaching for your own hand in moments of hardship or everyday stress. Even with a strong support network, we remain the only constant presence in our own lives, the ones who must always show up for ourselves.

Loneliness for me is the staggering coldness of an empty block of land in the evening, a rural kind of coldness knowing my friends have dispersed to Melbourne and surrounds. Loneliness is knowing this small rural town of mine is quiet and still, withdrawn and barely functioning with lack of funding and opportunity. I’m lonely when I look out the window, I’m lonely when I look in the mirror, I’m lonely in my innards and my stomach. I’m lonely in experiences. It’s this hungry thing, loneliness. It’s like wanting to constantly fill the emptiness, wanting some hot meal to consume and yet having nothing to swallow. It’s a kind of ache that corrodes you. I don’t want to be lonely anymore

This is a project I worked on in my first year of uni as an 18 year old. I was still confused about why I hadn’t made any friends, and why I was struggling so much. I found that the assignments I thrived in involved working with my family, and exploring my family dynamics through artwork. I wouldn’t have made it through uni if it wasn’t for the relationships I had with my immediate family.

A Chamber—void of Light—I claw—at Walls of Mist—Nails—Splinter—in the Night—Night—A Million Echoes—Thoughts—too Loud—to Speak—Darkness—leans—to Whisper—And Shadows—Never—Sleep—Hope—a Distant—Lantern—Flickering—on the Tide—Tomorrow—whispers—Softly—Yet—never stands—beside—Time—an Endless—Corridor—With You—Yesterday—A Billion Years—between us—Without You—Wait—for—Never—As Tomorrow—turns—to—Dust—The Ashes—drift—like Snow—A Weight—upon the Soul—White Noise—where Thought—should—dwell—And I—where do I go?