Purple leaves in a Minton jug, 8 May, 2020

A sense of increasing concern about people's mental health becomes apparent, even though Australia is much better off than many countries. We've had an unrestricted and unconfined life with an abundance of choices. Now I look at old objects passed down to me with fresh eyes, thinking of how many pasts can be gathered together in one present moment. The cracked Minton jug with its lovely Chinoiserie vase and tendrils is itself a product of travelling to the 'orient' in the eighteenth century. It comes from a Scottish great grandmother who must have given a set to her daughter when she married my Australian grandfather and embarked on a long and dangerous voyage to Sydney in a blacked-out ship in 1914. The ship took six weeks in cramped conditions to arrive, with a trunk of old china and linen in the hold. And now the imperial jug can hold flowers from my garden, more than a hundred years later, with other objects from other travels. The shells are musical conches from the Temple of Kali in Kolkata. You hear the mysterious honking sound early in the morning, and it means, said our Kolkata host, "Another day has come! I am still alive!"

Diana Wood Conroy, 'Purple leaves in a Minton jug' watercolour on Arches paper, 12 x 20 cm, 8 May 2020.