Wallandool examines my family property and its long and intriguing history from the 1880s. My intention was to represent the memory of this place: its forgotten past, its remnants, and the traces of absence that linger across the landscape. Photographs from both the past and the present convey how memory endures and how remnants of history shape the lived experience of the site. Inspired by Linda Schwab, who layers imagery to evoke a dreamlike, nostalgic reality where subjects emerge and dissolve, my body of work communicates the living memory of Wallandool, a space where the past continues to speak.

My body of work conveys the essence of Australian summer - its warmth, spontaneity and quiet nostalgia. Inspired by my childhood in Port Macquarie, each coloured pencil drawing represents family photographs as moments suspended in light. My intention is for the soft edges and candid compositions to communicate the fleeting simplicity of those days, celebrating the beauty found in ordinary, sun-soaked moments.

Influenced by my heritage, my body of work uses watercolour to represent the weathered beauty of Croatian towns, the stories they tell and the society they help define. I particularly love these townscapes with their ordinariness enriched through colour, stonework and ornate details. My grandparents came from a humble Croatian background and my intention was to convey to the audience the common structures that shaped, and were shaped by, the lives of ordinary people. Homes and communal spaces remind us that history lies not only in grand monuments but also in everyday buildings that communicate the resilience of ordinary people.

The intention of my body of work was to invite the audience to love the unloved. It is a close study of types of life that are often misunderstood, and represents a counterargument to the categorisation of these aspects of the natural world as 'insignificant' and 'unfavoured'. I was inspired by the artist Annette Messager whose work examines the interplay between the human and the monstrous.

In my body of work two ceramic heads represent freedom, endurance and untamed spirit, paying homage to the brumbies of the Snowy Mountains as immortalised in The Man from Snowy River. Through the raku firing process and delicate burning of horsehair into the surface, my intention was for the sculptures' charcoal marks and seared lines to bind fire, earth and animal into one form, conveying a physical and symbolic connection between the animals and the land they inhabit. My work acknowledges the ongoing tension between conservation and culling, illustrating how these creatures remain woven into Australia's cultural and environmental identity.

My body of work represents the delicate, ephemeral beauty of the mountainous and icy landscapes of Iceland, Japan and Finland. While climate change hums quietly in the background, I focused on my sensory and emotional memory of these landscapes, remembering their textures, contours and elusive light. I experimented with techniques, printing my cyanotypes in rich Prussian blues and using the medium's inherent unpredictability to convey the transient, melting nature of these places. My intention was for each work to be an act of reverence, an elegy, communicating what is slipping away through a process as fragile as the scenes themselves.

Undertow Halo investigates perception and its ability to alter how we engage with the world around us. In making my body of work I found myself in dialogue with my surroundings. A fleeting reflection - the shift of light, or the irregularity of a shadow - was more than incidental: it became a site of meaning. My work represents these moments, making them into records. Verisimilitude is always in flux, formed as much by the audience's inner state as by the external world. Who truly inhabits a space: the body, the mind, or the subtle message of the environment itself?

As a teenager I see how constant screen use among adolescents fragments reality, so my intention in Signal Lost was to parallel the emotional impact of contemporary isolation through digital addiction with the disorientation of early Australian settlers. In my body of work I combined etched laser-cut phone cases - representing dependence - with monotype printmaking, fragmented compositions and reversed prints of blurred child figures and moody bushland to convey vulnerability and loss. My work recontextualises national imagery to critique modern disconnection, encouraging the audience to reflect on our digital habits and to reconnect with nature.

My body of work conveys the restorative power of nature that I experience at my family's property in Capertee. It examines moments of pause in the natural world, with the intention of forming a visual journal of presence, landscape and tranquility in the countryside. The recurring motif of the tent window represents a threshold between inner contemplation and the vastness of the landscape, inviting the audience to pause and reflect.

My body of work examines the vast, ancient landscape of Western Australia. Based on a range of sites explored during my travels from Broome to Perth, my intention was to convey a snapshot of the unique geological formations within these regions. Using both embroidery and oil mediums, my work juxtaposes the precise and meditative practice of creating traditional textiles with the versatility of painting to represent the rich pigments of some of the oldest rocks on Earth in their unique rugged grandeur.

My intention in my body of work was to draw a parallel between the transition from silent movies to sound with contemporary anxieties surrounding AI and its threat to artistic practice. The filmmaker's and fisherman's characters contrast forced creation with patient discovery: the filmmaker's reliance on a machine conveys the dangers of reducing art to mechanical production, while the fisherman's character communicates a slower, organic process of waiting. The fish represents creativity itself - elusive, only caught through perseverance. My work investigates the destructive consequences of artificial shortcuts while affirming the value of patience, intuition and process in pursuing authentic inspiration.

As a person who has suffered from anxiety, I often feel the pressure to fit in and the weight of being watched in many different settings. Eye of the Moth represents these sensations in a first-person 3D animation, where shifting environments convey tension and brief moments of relief. The moth, with its eye-patterned wings, and the battery motifs communicate vulnerability, exhaustion and persistent anxious thought. Through immersive sound, movement and symbolic imagery, my body of work investigates how observation, internal and external, shapes perception and identity, and the subtle, constant ways anxiety affects daily life.