The InBetween at Stoddart Cottage has now closed.

Six artists fretted about whether or not they could make an exhibition of new work in eight weeks. We did it, and it was good. The project - The Inbetween at Stoddart Cottage, Diamond Harbour, 1-26 January 2025 - wishes to be spoken about.

Sitting here tonight to do so is a considered effort and a diarised event. Is it possible to reserve some of the fervour of those last few days before an exhibition installation to reflect on it afterwards? How can I just keep a little in reserve? Because those weeks of work and effort deserve to settle a little deeper in the strata, and yet I'm so quick to put it all behind me.

The tank is empty after install. Everyone disperses. We've all been up in each others faces and consciousness. Messages pinging. Decisions to be made. It takes it out of me. It's laborious. I wouldn't be without it.

After the install, I slide happily into my Off-Duty Artist modus operandi, free from the burden of art making and organising!! Some time passes, then the bell strikes. To the studio I go, to take down the drawings and notes from the wall (I have recently upgraded this stage to archiving the drawings on the wall to the filing cabinet, a significant professional development). Time for something new. But what about all of that effort and love and ideas burning to be to shared? It spent four weeks on display and came home again. It will join an alarmingly large pile of work, discarded and downgraded. "It's in the way". No. I must do more, and I must make time for reflection.

What I enjoyed most about The Inbetween was the shared enthusiasm from all of us for making new work based on a theme. A theme sounds trite. A shared kaupapa might be better. None of us are too tightly bound by our own practices that we can't get excited by a new, conceptual challenge. These are the kind of artists I get excited to work with, and I am so grateful for my friendships with Casey, Tessa, Celia, Jo and Kris.

When we arrived at Stoddart Cottage, I just knew we'd done good. The little building embraced us warmly. Our installation was neither too grand nor too shy for its housing. We sat separately together. There were our individual voices and the connections that brought us together. Collaboration takes many forms.

I was happy with the work I made. I'm a fidgety artist, not yet prepared to define my preferred media or processes. When we were presented with the opportunity to do The InBetween my first reaction was to evolve what I had made for Little Landmarks in a drastic way. Now I'm grateful that the time pressure held me back and forced me to work with what I had, because that's what this exhibition asked for.

I didn't go far from home, technically or conceptually, but existing braids meandered and shifted gently towards new channels.

The work came from a desire to find a physical connection with Diamond Harbour, but I just couldn't get there to explore. Instead, I looked at maps and borrowed library books about how the Banks Peninsula came to be. They helped me to reach what was otherwise inaccessible.

A few days before The Inbetween closed, I rode up the Christchurch Gondola and saw the whole stretch of land between home and Diamond Harbour with my own eyes. Maps around the Visitor Centre assisted in our way finding. I found my way back round to the beginning.