“I work with the strangeness of everything else besides us, the beings whose vegetal, fungal, algal, lichen and insect ways of sensing remain unknown to me. That unknowing feels like a kind of hope.”

Much of my practice unfolds through durational bodies of work, shaped by lived conditions and uncertainty. The works develop as ways of sensing, listening, and staying familiar with materials, place, and bodily change over time. Bilateral drawing, weather translations, spectral photography, microbial and material processes, ecological recording, and the untangling of sensory overwhelm become records of these interactions.

My practice began in the body, before language. Pattern was my first way of orienting, as light, people, place and tension imprinted themselves on my nervous system. These sensitivities formed within a weathered history of systemic and intimate violence, where vigilance was a way of staying alert to harm. That adaptation remains, now working as a way of noticing land, time, beings, patterns, and atmospheres as they move through place.

My body registers shifts I cannot always readily process. So the work requires places where signals can remain without resolution.

So I build campsites for sensory latency, holding patterns, where unfinished sentences, partial impressions, and overloaded absences can stay active without needing to cohere. When overwhelm or insurmountability interrupt linear time, these structures hold open a space where alternatives can gather. What I once understood only as a mess of signals I now also recognise as a sortitious movement through possibilities, an adaptive way of making room for speculation.

The materials I work with hold memory across many scales. Wind-fallen plants, mistletoe haustoria, chamber lye/urine, lichen, wood grain, minerals, and frequencies beyond human hearing carry their own ways of being with a place.

Lichen and mistletoe continue to teach me about adaptation and interdependence. Working with them has helped me consider co-temporality and the different scales on which organisms may hold and express time. This is helping me understand my continued experience of layered time.

My pace is shaped by disability and by the tuition of these materials. The work unfolds as it needs to, guided by what my body can hold and by the timings embedded in material processes.

Much of this work develops in ongoing conversation with my partner, Ross Annels. Our thinking, making, and ways of sensing place shape the studio we build together.

Karla Pringle lives and works on Wadawurrung Country, Victoria, after relocating from Kabi Kabi Country, Queensland, in 2024.