good doog

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I had been out of communicative range for awhile there, so damn refreshing. Bathing in the Blackwood – getting swept upstream – dressed in black mud and the cleanest murky water. I forget sometimes about the intensity of beauty that can cripple me at the best of times. And of the fragility in all of us, and in the abundance of love that floats around and how it aint hard to have fun and be a good doog.

Camp Doogs began as an idea in the wonderful minds of some creative Perth folk, as a low-key chill festival for good tunes and good times in a stupendously beautiful environment in the South West. I was generously invited to participate and make some art for the occasion, but by virtue of the very nature of it, it was bound to be more than just that.

 

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