Roadkill Approximately 10 million animals die on our roads each year from vehicle related incidents. Alone, afraid and abandoned; they are left on the side of the road to die, sometimes slowly and in pain. They are splattered and maimed and decapitated by hurtling machines of metal. When I see their corpses on the road, I cannot help but see myself in their position, I wonder how they would have felt, dazed and struck down by headlights, vulnerable and laid out bare for everyone to see.
In many ways we are the same. I always look over my shoulder when I walk the few hundred metres from the tram stop to my house, as I dart my eyes from every tree brunch snapping to leaves rustling. Inches from my home, I know I am still not safe, I know I too could end up on the curb, alone, afraid, abandoned.
Our death is seen as inevitable. Expected.
Late at night, if a kangaroo is jumping across the road, if a woman is walking through a park, ‘what do they expect to happen?’ They say, ‘They are putting themselves in a dangerous situation. They shouldn’t have been there in the first place. She shouldn’t have stayed with him. It shouldn’t have flown into my car. It’s just something that happens. There was nothing that could be done.’
‘It’s inevitable, tragic, but inevitable.’
More than ever violence, random or premeditated occurs on our streets and in our homes, and too often it is women who are the victims of this.
These works could not have been created without the collaboration of Madeleine Swain, my lovely, accommodating and selfless mother, and my dearest friend Elizabeth Hoare, both of whom allowed me to drag them into the cold night, kept me safe on treacherous roads, and even helped scout locations. I thank them for their service and continuous love and friendship.
These works were made on Woiworung, Boonwurrung, Gulidjan and Kurnai lands. I acknowledge the Traditional Owners of Country, the true custodians of land, and give my respect to Elders past and present. It is crucial to understand, acknowledge and appreciate Aboriginal and Torres Strait Islanders as the land’s first storytellers and artists, who have been creating and sharing artwork with a deep cultural connection to Country for millennia. I wish to recognise their continuous connections to land, water, and communities, and note that sovereignty was never ceded and we continue to live, thrive off and create on stolen lands.
Instagram: @gswain_photography
