under is over the top. At the heart of this sprawling soft sculpture a flickering kaleidoscopic anima snatches at our attention. It transfers and transforms a moment of serendipitous fascination experienced by Ferracin on one of her daily bush walks near her suburban Sydney home. In shafts of bright early morning light piercing the shadow of forest trees, tiny flying insects enacted their cryptic reproductive rites, gleaming, chasing, oblivious. Present, there in that moment, with the insects, the light, the crisp winter air, Ferracin filmed the ancient performance on her mobile phone, capturing it to share in future translation in the space of Art.

Enveloping this iris-like flickering presence, a heaping sinuous tangle of neoprene offcuts, a by-product of industrial shoe manufacture, smothers the floor. A skein of knotted black rubber inner tubes protrudes from the ominous body, reaching out across the floor - searching tentacles? a swimming tail? a probing organ?

This lumpen mass of excess from our culture of excess, dispossessed and uprooted from its originating industrial economic context, can do nothing but become.

It becomes a complex knotty impossible organism, a shotgun wedding between debris and invention, pollution and inspiration. It becomes some mutable thing to ponder, to impose meaning upon, to drag away from inchoate distress toward the calm waters of interpretation. It becomes a catalyst for discussions about hidden waste, mindless consumption, mysterious creatures, monsters and holidays.

It becomes Art.