Coffee, Salt and Paint Pt.2

Jack Auburn isn’t your typical 24-year-old surfer, bleached and browned by the coastal sunshine. Throughout his childhood, he spent countless hours outside under the wide country sky mucking around in runnelled crop fields and climbing trees. He’s grateful that not much has changed, although the handfuls of country dirt that used to run through his...

Ocean Palm Hotel

He hadn’t moved all afternoon, guitar cradled against his chest. He’d played a note every now and then but mostly he just ran his fingertips along the strings as he watched people pass by below. He peeled its wooden body from his skin as he slouched a little further down on the lounge chair, an...

Coffee, Salt and Paint

Following his sister up the building’s exterior stairs I can see that Jack’s work is already spilling out into the world. The brick façade holds a gentle monochrome face, her eyes closed, surrounded by a noisy mess of swirling colour. Nearing the top of the stairs a thumping vibration builds through the railing. My friend...