Writing at the NGV

mounT KoSciuSKo

At first, the canvas was blank. I take a breath. Sunrise. Such a funny concept in this strange new land. Tell me, how can the sky be painted a sapphire blue and flamingo pink all at once? Yet, the astonishing hues forever remain partially hidden by the infinite expanse of the forest.

I take a breath, and a strong waft of campfire smoke travels through my nostrils, with hints of a sickly sweet substance, unrecognisable, unknown.

The faint and lingering scent of dirt after rain comforts me as I listen to the soft melodic harmony of a gilded lyre, accompanied by faint but sweet humming and the crackling campfire.

The bristling of the wind against my face and dirt crusting up into the grooves of my toes sends shivers down my spine, the crisp morning air can be unforgiving, the chorus of birds chirping and our horses neighing quietly in the distance blends into the background as I stare up at the canvas-like sky.

How can a sky be so beautiful, yet so unreachable?

When writing with you, I feel inspiredThe feeling of writing on the smoothness of you Just enhances the experience

We also mustn’t forget that you are the best vessel For the beautiful art of origami

The different colours that you can wearWhether it was dyed or put on Bring out the inner beauty that you hide every day that Goes unnoticed and taken for granted.

by Kylie Hui (Year 7, 2022)

BiG Yam dreaminG

The lines that connect us across the globe

The roots of our world

The bones that we are built on And the infinite cycle of nature

The black and the white In stark separation Are united in a dance of forever In the songs of the land

Life and death

Locked in their timeless struggle

Twisting, swirling and spiraling Forming and reforming in front of our eyes

Lines of feeling loose and flowing Dreams and stories that connect us Light and dark

Alive and filling the world with its energy by Lucinda

Tee-Wu (Year 10, 2022)

My gaze drifts towards the giant-like mountains that stand untouched, alone, together, I wonder if one day, I will touch the peak and breathe in the fresh mountain air and touch the untouchable clouds. At first, the canvas was blank, I sat staring at the empty frame. Now I realise, though the canvas is still blank, it isn’t empty.

by Zoe Popelianski (Year 7, 2022)