How could anyone resist staring into the inner workings of so many beautiful people cyclists viewed by the artist over the past two years in Fitzroy and Port Melbourne and Carlton (the cool part) and East Melbourne? Affluent, carefully unpretentious hipsters cycling to breakfast in Port Melbourne, touring through Williamstown, working as young professionals (some not so young, but still groovy): academics, lawyers, actors, artists, doctors at inner city hospitals. Pure voyeuristic heaven for cyclists and anyone else. Pure vicarious slurping.
The Styx: a modern Australian gothic novel