As a creative, there’s nothing quite like finding your tribe. ’Tribe’ is that over-used term for a group of like-minds, whose values and interests align with yours — a community of interest. For me, finding that community took years. I was probably trying to find out who I was as an artist and practitioner during that time. When I worked it out, so too did I work out where the other like-minds were. Unfortunately, they were not near me.
For many years, I felt my tribe was overseas — groups of creatives interested in creating beyond the local, in being part of global conversations on creativity, the environment, sustainability and regeneration, acoustic ecology, and other existential issues shaping our lives. I was introduced to my first international collaborator through my membership to Arts Territory Exchange in 2017. Our work together opened a new world to me. Before that, I’d been slogging away within the regional arts sector of New South Wales, having small wins but meeting a lot of brick walls.
Since 2017, I’ve been part of several international networks and groups, collaborating with artists from Europe, the UK and the US. It’s been exciting to see my sound, video and text-based works presented overseas. I’ve been a member of the US-run ecoartspace, who have presented my work in books; international walking art network walk · listen · create, whose Sound Walk September Awards I’m an grand jurist for (this is my last year); the UK-based international ClimateCultures, who have generously published my essays, and; Artists in Nature International, whose Australian members I had so much fun with in Queensland in July, pushing me to do something I’d never done before in my practice.
Over the past five years, my Australian networks have slowly grown to include wonderful groups such as Australian Walking Artists; the Australian Dialogue members of international network, ecoartspace, and; the inspiring Australian Forum for Acoustic Ecology, of which I’m now a board member.
However, in September, I took on a full-time role in radio. In the 30 years since I last worked in broadcast journalism, I’d forgotten how much I enjoy it and that it’s something I’m good at. The role I have is a service to my regional communities, it’s fast-paced, it requires broad knowledge of everything from politics to popular culture (sport is my achilles heel), and it’s different every day. I have a lot of creative control over what I do and how I do it, and a fabulous producer who supports me all the way. But it’s also ridiculously demanding of my time and my capacity to think about other things at the end of a 10 or 12 hour day that starts pre-dawn.
In just a couple of months, I’ve become a passive member of many of the groups I have loved being part of. Within my own creative practice, I’m now aware it’s taking me longer to get to things — requiring more discipline to start on tasks earlier, well ahead of deadlines. I have lots of action plans, deadlines for myself, and a running to-do list. From the end of this month, I have works in two group exhibitions and a body of work in a small solo show that will run concurrently through to March 2026…and then I have a book to publish and a major solo exhibition of works that will have been two years in the making to open seven months after that. I’m exhausted just writing that knowing I hardly have any annual leave to use yet.
My memberships to some groups will lapse in the new year. I’m hanging on to some of the connections I’ve made through those groups though, because these are passionate, talented, interesting people who I love interacting with, even if it’s just an online comment or two. Some can also turn into the occasional two-hour phone call when time permits. The memberships I’ll be renewing are the groups I’m hoping will be patient with me as I work through my commitments, while trying to be kinder to myself in the process.
As I walk the shady roads around where I live in the early hours of the weekend, I spend my time thinking about these things and trying to plan a way forward. It’s made me realise that being part of a group can still leave you feeling isolated — watching everyone ‘at play’ without you. Paying your membership to the tribe isn’t a guarantee of feeling connected — that requires being actively engaged. For now, I need to withdraw a bit without losing touch. I know who I am as a creative — I still have a lot more to share through the world of sound and words, and I hope to reconnect when I’ve found the time to be more actively engaged in the process.
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