Campfire Stories pt. 1,2,3
‘Campfire Stories’ is a three-part exploration into ourself, Art, and each other. The purpose of this series is to bring us together, sitting by the fire. It provides an open space for the sharing of stories, thoughts, ideas, and good company. ‘Campfire Stories’ follows a path towards visual, conceptual, and meaningful expression—created in collaboration with each other.
This series was part of ‘Seeing/Remembering/Painting’, a group exhibition at Gallery One, Mitcham, SA, in 2025.
Campfire Stories Pt.1. Acrylic on board, 60x45cm, 2025
This first instalment shares a story that was told by my friend Trav, while warming by the fire on a cold night in the High Country. The painting is done by me, while warming by the fire on a cold night at home.
So, I was about 8 years old in my bedroom, probably doing homework or maybe playing with my trucks. Probably the latter.. For some reason, I decided to light an incense stick to set the mood. I lit it, blew out the match, and chucked it in the side table bin.
About two minutes later, my mum called out that dinner was ready. Sweet! I headed toward the dining room. My bedroom was just across the hallway through a door leading to it.
My family and I sat down to eat - most likely meat and 3 veg, the staple of any ’80s dinner.
Not long after, a faint smell of smoke started drifting into the dining room. Dad was the first to notice. He jumped up and went to check. When he opened the doorway to the hallway and my bedroom, he found it pretty much engulfed in flames.
He ran to the garage, grabbed the fire extinguisher, and started dousing the flames. Meanwhile, Mum was on the phone with emergency, trying to get through to the fire brigade.
A fire truck was on the way.
Dad had by then managed to put most of it out and told my older brother to grab the garden hose from around the side of the house. Dad kept working to put out the fire.
About 15 minutes passed, but no sirens or flashing lights.
Now, my hometown back then had a population of around 45,000 and the fire station was 6 mins away.
Dad got back on the landline to call the fire station and find out what was going on.
Turns out, dispatch had sent the fire truck to a nearby rural suburb - about 25 minutes in the opposite direction - with the same address. This was before postcodes were invented, mind you.
They redirected the crew, and we waited for them to arrive.
At this point I should probably mention, Dad had been a professional firefighter in town for about 20 years.
Yuh...So there's that
Also, just the month before this event, it had been decided that all emergency calls in the country would be routed through one central hub - in our case, a city 600 km away, On a different Island. They completely failed to decipher the difference between two similar addresses close by.
Eventually, the fire truck arrived, with Dad embarrassingly waiting out front for all his workmates to give him a bit of grief...
They heckled him as they unloaded the truck and finished putting out the last of the fire, then inspected the damage for insurance purposes.
Not exactly the best look for a firefighter’s son - setting his own bedroom on fire.
Anyway, Dad taught me a lesson about how matches can still be hot even after you think they’re out, in classic ’80s parenting style.
And to this day, I’ve never set another bedroom on fire. I’m 42 now
Campfire Stories Pt.2. Acrylic on board, 60x45cm, 2025
This painting was done by a group of friends .
We all sat around a painted campfire, visually sharing and materialising ideas with each other and ourselves.
We were creative in our exploration of different subjects, and the blended and colourful manifestation of the lack of one.
We went far in our experimentation, playing with an eccentric range of techniques, brushes, tools, exciting colours, patterns, and expressive energy. All in a completely safe place and with an open minded and free approach. It gave many the opportunity to give freely something they had inside of them they may have needed to let go. It taught me a lot and gave me a fresh sense for artistic expression.
Campfire Stories Pt. 3. Acrylic on canvas, 1x2m, 2025
The third and final Campfire Story transcends the physical representation of the fire, it creates the space for completely unrestrained expression. Even with limited visual direction and no unanimous vision, this collaborative effort took on the inevitable shape of the human spirit.
Earth, space, community, culture, freedom, soul, journey and love all together surround a symbol of life and birth.
Some thoughts that spoke to some of us where:
An unexpected change welcomed by the known.
The moment is what you make of it.
Made by friends, with different lives and different circumstances to each other, who came together to create interwoven beauty.
Sometimes our memories come through as colours, as shapes, as symbols.
As the snake uncurls from it’s warm comfort, so does the love which was poured.
We are connected by Love.
Proof of Life on Earth.