happy, nice, alone, sad
Just like rolling my back over a dead bug in the grass, here, my mother’s moth-bitten blanket
lies between me and a dirty T-shirt. When a wafer transports you to church morning tea (10
am service) and when A is for Apple and B is for Batman, dirty socks sit beside shoes kicked
off outside (with sheets kicked to the bottom of the bed)
This is red, this is yellow, this leaf is yellow.
Happy, nice, alone, sad, my name is Lauren and I like to watch tv. I don’t like cars except
yellow ones and I like when the whole place smells like raisin toast
-like a horse seeing fireworks for the first time- like a cold night- a warm dinner. Just like the
Civic DVD video sale and microwave cake in a cup. big windows, street sweepers, banana
bread and playing Wii on the weekend- the best bit was always stealing my brothers Lego
and lying about it.







Exploring the artist’s lived spatiality and the process of placemaking, “happy, nice, alone, sad” explores eclectic strings of memory and place. As the intersection of memory and place acts as the nexus of sensory orientation, this work explores the ongoing non-linear conversation between the past and the present. Pulling from the artist’s archive of childhood drawings and interests, the work extracts the raw toy-like qualities of everyday objects to construct an experiential and achitectural environment that feels as if one has slept-walked into an amorphous realm of lived experiences and sentinementality. Calling to the artist’s context of a suburban and Anglican upbringing, the fragmented characteristics of the home present an abstract representation of the everyday visible and invisible forces that influence life, whether contently in or out of control of the individual. With soft material renderings in conversation with harsh wooden lines, and reflective silvers, visual threads of cobalt blue pull the composition together. Ultimately unravelling the artist’s intimate personal narrative and unresolved emotional feelings of moving into the city (and out of their childhood home), the work pushes the audience to emotionally and tactilely engage with the universal nonsense of memory and place.
next (2025), copper plate etching edition on paper






