Sarah Waghorn
Sarah Waghorn
Over the last year I have been working on a new body of works inspired by a walk across the Overland Track in Tasmania.
The oil paintings will be on show in Canberra at Grainger Gallery in October.
See HERE to view the works
Over the last year I have been working on a new body of works inspired by a walk across the Overland Track in Tasmania.
The oil paintings will be on show in Canberra at Grainger Gallery in October.
See HERE to view the works
THE PATH WITHIN - AN OVERLAND JOURNEY
Solo Exhibition Statement by Sarah Waghorn
THE PATH WITHIN - AN OVERLAND JOURNEY
Solo Exhibition Statement by Sarah Waghorn
This exhibition presents a series of large-scale oil paintings inspired by my journey along the Overland Track in Tasmania — an iconic 65 kilometre trail that winds through some of the most remote and ancient terrain in Australia.
This track weaves through a strikingly diverse range of environments: from alpine plateaus and glacial valleys to dense, prehistoric rainforests cloaked in moss and with an air of mystery. What struck me most throughout the journey was the sense of immersion — the way the land seemed to absorb us as we walked; the trail unfolding like a quiet, wordless story. These paintings aim to capture that sense of being enveloped, dwarfed, and transformed by wild nature.
The rainforest sections in particular left a deep impression. Among the Myrtle and Sassafras, beneath canopies dripping with lichen and filtered light, the forest felt sacred and alive with presence. There’s a hushed energy in those places, as though time slows down and everything softens. I worked to echo that slowness in the painting process, building up surface and texture to mirror the density of the forest floor, the multicoloured peeling bark, the shifting greens, and the delicate play of light in the shadows.
Throughout the journey, I didn’t make sketches or notes; instead, I let the landscapes imprint themselves on me. I carried the memory of them back into the studio; the sound of wind moving across the plains, the glint of tarns under heavy sky, the scent of wet earth and bark. The paintings are, in many ways, constructed from these remembered sensations — filtered through the body, translated through the brush. There is a quiet intensity to the Tasmanian landscape, a tension between beauty and rawness, softness and stone. I hope that tension carries through in the work.
Ultimately, this exhibition is a reflection on connection — to land, to memory, and to the quiet transformations that unfold when we journey on foot through wilderness. I invite viewers not to look at these paintings, but to step into them, to experience the weight of mist, the hush of moss and the tall stature of the trees.
This exhibition presents a series of large-scale oil paintings inspired by my journey along the Overland Track in Tasmania — an iconic 65 kilometre trail that winds through some of the most remote and ancient terrain in Australia.
This track weaves through a strikingly diverse range of environments: from alpine plateaus and glacial valleys to dense, prehistoric rainforests cloaked in moss and with an air of mystery. What struck me most throughout the journey was the sense of immersion — the way the land seemed to absorb us as we walked; the trail unfolding like a quiet, wordless story. These paintings aim to capture that sense of being enveloped, dwarfed, and transformed by wild nature.
The rainforest sections in particular left a deep impression. Among the Myrtle and Sassafras, beneath canopies dripping with lichen and filtered light, the forest felt sacred and alive with presence. There’s a hushed energy in those places, as though time slows down and everything softens. I worked to echo that slowness in the painting process, building up surface and texture to mirror the density of the forest floor, the multicoloured peeling bark, the shifting greens, and the delicate play of light in the shadows.
Throughout the journey, I didn’t make sketches or notes; instead, I let the landscapes imprint themselves on me. I carried the memory of them back into the studio; the sound of wind moving across the plains, the glint of tarns under heavy sky, the scent of wet earth and bark. The paintings are, in many ways, constructed from these remembered sensations — filtered through the body, translated through the brush. There is a quiet intensity to the Tasmanian landscape, a tension between beauty and rawness, softness and stone. I hope that tension carries through in the work.
Ultimately, this exhibition is a reflection on connection — to land, to memory, and to the quiet transformations that unfold when we journey on foot through wilderness. I invite viewers not to look at these paintings, but to step into them, to experience the weight of mist, the hush of moss and the tall stature of the trees.