By Catherine Watson
“I COLLECT road kill,” Lizz Meldrum says, as casually as another person might mention they collect stamps or teaspoons.
The statement hangs in the air while I consider it. Of course I knew Lizz was no ordinary artist. Her stunning work The Ballerina, made from air dried clay and a set of jawbones, is at once humorous and unsettling.
What kind of imagination looks at a set of toothy jawbones – and envisages a ballerina en pointe? A very pink and bandy legged ballerina at that.
“The Ballerina .. is beautiful and will not let the oddness stop her from living her life,” Lizz wrote in her artist’s statement, “instead of just existing because society won’t see her as the ‘typical’ ballerina.”
The judges of the Women with Disabilities Australia 2021 art prize loved the work, awarding it a high commendation.
Lizz is proud of the accolade but ever prouder of the fact that she actually put a work into competition.
“I COLLECT road kill,” Lizz Meldrum says, as casually as another person might mention they collect stamps or teaspoons.
The statement hangs in the air while I consider it. Of course I knew Lizz was no ordinary artist. Her stunning work The Ballerina, made from air dried clay and a set of jawbones, is at once humorous and unsettling.
What kind of imagination looks at a set of toothy jawbones – and envisages a ballerina en pointe? A very pink and bandy legged ballerina at that.
“The Ballerina .. is beautiful and will not let the oddness stop her from living her life,” Lizz wrote in her artist’s statement, “instead of just existing because society won’t see her as the ‘typical’ ballerina.”
The judges of the Women with Disabilities Australia 2021 art prize loved the work, awarding it a high commendation.
Lizz is proud of the accolade but ever prouder of the fact that she actually put a work into competition.
“It’s the first time I’ve entered a competition. I felt I won a pot of gold just by entering. I never thought I’d be able to do that."
Last year she began a capacity building arts course at Bass Coast Adult Learning (BCAL) in Wonthaggi. It has transformed her life, she says.
“I had a mental breakdown, I didn’t know who or what I was. Going to BCAL I’m finally getting those answers. I feel safe there. They’re more open minded and accepting of a disability. I can be me and it doesn’t matter if I dissociate or have a panic attack. It’s the first time of feeling I actually belong somewhere.
"I’ve definitely gained confidence. I always loved arts and crafts but I used to worry about what people thought. It’s only in the past year and a bit that I’ve learnt the confidence to let people see it and not care.”
The “not caring” about what others think brings us back to the road kill. Some people, says Lizz wonderingly, are repulsed by her use of animal parts in her art.
Last year she began a capacity building arts course at Bass Coast Adult Learning (BCAL) in Wonthaggi. It has transformed her life, she says.
“I had a mental breakdown, I didn’t know who or what I was. Going to BCAL I’m finally getting those answers. I feel safe there. They’re more open minded and accepting of a disability. I can be me and it doesn’t matter if I dissociate or have a panic attack. It’s the first time of feeling I actually belong somewhere.
"I’ve definitely gained confidence. I always loved arts and crafts but I used to worry about what people thought. It’s only in the past year and a bit that I’ve learnt the confidence to let people see it and not care.”
The “not caring” about what others think brings us back to the road kill. Some people, says Lizz wonderingly, are repulsed by her use of animal parts in her art.
“Some people think the bones are repulsive and what I see is their absolute beauty. I see it as more than a bone. There is beauty in everything if we could really see and not just look. “I go walking and collecting. We live on an old farm and you find all sorts of old bones. A lot of the jawbones are from sheep. “I just have a natural instinct of looking and seeing bones. Em, my partner, does it now too. She’ll come home and say ‘I’ve got something for you.’ And it’s a dead animal. Kangaroos, foxes, wombats, birds, the usual things. An echidna once. I did a piece with spikes. “We don’t collect them for a morbid reason, it’s out of love and respect. Just because they’re dead on the road doesn’t mean they’re not entitled to respect.” Lizz and Em live on a hobby farm near Korumburra with an assortment of animals that needed a home: there are sheep and a gorgeous pink pig called George who loves to have his tummy rubbed, his best friend Billy, a horse, and Ebony, a crazy horny cow. “Some days it’s very entertaining and some days just scary,” says Lizz. Whichever way it goes, she’s a big believer in animal therapy. “Without my animals I’d have no reason to get up.” And her art. Her life these days is full of art: her art class with Lisa Ovejero at BCAL, ceramics and lino printing with Lyn Keating at Bena, and Tuesday craft classes with Sarah Sullivan at Loch “I’m doing what I love,” says Lizz, “playing with clay and the bones. With BCAL’s support, and Em’s support, I’m fulfilling my dreams. They’ve given me the confidence to have a go.” | “Lizz’s piece challenges clichéd ballerina imagery reforming it with a masterful use of eclectic mixed media.” |
You can see more of Liz’s works at Roadkill You Are Loved on Instagram. Email her at [email protected] if you would like to see more works or to buy or commission a piece.