my work - do I have blood on my hands?

In a place far from Australian shores, maybe close to where the trouble started, I ask "Do I have blood on my hands?". I live in a world of commuters. My own focus was the mass of humanity on the underground. My art process transformed with the death of my Dad in August 2010 and now I hear the call of the kangaroo around my wrist. Recently I have been binding clothes into vessels inspired by Indigenous basket weaving but what do I really know of my history. Do I sit here in London on the sacrifice of the first Australians.

images: the start of a work on hessian, exploring my responsibility