These are the trees and the paddocks and the fences and the old corrugated iron sheds that Scott sees each time he enters and leaves the valley. Their colours , this environment infuses his work as much as his pigments do. What I cannot photograph is the extraordinary depth of the quietness in this part of the valley, a silence only broken by the occasional squawk of a bird or the sound of the wind in the trees.
In this atmosphere of quiet and eucalypt scented air, Scott has been working hard. He is producing works, both small and large, at what I think is a prolific rate, given the amount of detail in each work.
This next work is called "My Brother's Boat."
"Why that title?" I ask.
"Because it was like Dean got into a boat and slipped quietly away," Scott replies.
I love watching as Scott burns lines into another work. His focus is such that it is almost as I am not there.