Desperately alone in the madding crowd of a nursing home, my dear ninety two year old Granny sits waiting; longing to return home to her father, mother, Kokoda entombed brother, husband and Betty Brown her beloved horse. She cannot penetrate the dense fog of her advanced dementia to comprehend that impossibility.

Granny was born in these hills and loves them as kin. They nurtured and nourished six generations of her horticultural family. The hills although strangely familiar are devoid of the life that once filled hers and nourished her family. Where once there was abundance and beauty that flourished by her toil, there is now parched land.

Resolved Granny departs with her plant trolley. This time however the trolley is empty because where she is going she cannot take anything with her, nor does she need anything. She is on her way home; Departing Home…

The image is imbued with complex dualities; of departure and welcome; the place both derelict and sacred; the subject tormented but resolved; of spirituality and mundanity; of sorrow and relief; and of love yet abandonment.

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