I grew up on this river. It raised me.

We lived along the Murray in Gol Gol and life became the water. We skied from dawn to dusk. Before school, after school and sometimes instead of school. The river was our highway, moving from one houseboat to the next.

I raced in the Mildura 100 when I was six. I dreamt of competing at the Moomba Masters.

I learnt to ski there and later taught it. Kids, families and anyone willing to get behind the rope. That rhythm stayed with me. It still sits in my body.

The river was never somewhere we visited. It shaped everything.

It feeds the orchards, the vineyards and the homes. It decides what’s possible out here. When there’s water, things grow. When there isn’t, everything feels it.

The Murray, known as Millewa across Latji Latji and Ngintait Country and as Barka further north on Barkandji Country, has sustained life for thousands of years. I acknowledge the Traditional Custodians of these lands and waters, and the knowledge held in caring for them across generations.

Millewa Flow is built as three panels, but reads as one continuous river. The separation references borders. New South Wales and Victoria. It also draws from Wentworth, where the Murray and Darling meet. Two bodies of water. Separate, but connected.

The river itself is formed through negative space. Removed, not drawn. The steel holds the land. The gum tree silhouettes are taken directly from my own backyard.

Within Harvest, water functions as the foundation.

Nothing begins without it.

No growth. No labour. No yield.

It sits behind every system, shaping what can exist and what cannot.

For me, this work is not only about infrastructure.

It is memory, it is movementt is home.

Millewa is lifeblood.

The Murray is home.

Flow sustains everything that follows.