In a world of retreating mystery, where there is so much we can now see and cannot unsee, I am drawn to the things that still prove impossibly fleeting, fragile and beyond our grasp.

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I wish I could take photos of the shadows I see at night- the inverted silhouette of a moth hanging from an awning reflected on the weatherboards, mixed in with the climbing vines. But I can’t. It’s too delicate, too small and not there for more than a moment.

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If I shone a light on it to capture the image it would show nothing- a ghost’s reflection in a mirror; a quark under a microscope; the things we are allowed to see but not hold.

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I draw from that inspiration, from the world that’s made by the light that falls on it, a moment in the universe that I can recreate from memory only, and which is full of hope, humour and playfulness and I can reinterpret as images and words.