Easter Rising

March 28, 2016

Finally, after many, many days of re-finishing the sculpture nicknamed the Pumpkin Pole, it was installed on the eve of Good Friday.


During the Easter weekend myself and Marisa have been working around the base of “Birth” in preparation of sowing grass.


Here’s a very short four second video that is fun to watch.

gaia from Peter Adams/Windgrove on Vimeo.


New version

March 1, 2016

Last year I posted a short one minute video that was part of an advertising campaign by Tourism Tasmania. Recently, the producer of that video sent me a five minute, “Director’s Cut”. This is a really beautifully crafted video. Enjoy.

Tourism Tasmania – Peter Adams from Brad Sayers Director on Vimeo.


Dan Bailey at Windgrove

January 15, 2016

It’s been a whirlwind of drone footage and photos for the past month by long time friend and guest artist at Windgrove: Dan Bailey.

windgroveaerialcircles Dan

For a visual treat, go to Dan’s own blog to see more images and read what he has written about his time here.



My long time friend Dan Bailey is visiting Windgrove for a month. Here’s his first video of the area.

Enjoy this visual treat.

Emily at Roaring Beach from Dan Bailey on Vimeo.


In the crystallin vastness of a starry night, if you or I look up into the billions of pin-pricks of light and try to comprehend the enormity of space and time and our place in it……

We can feel totally insignificant.

But…. We have a choice.

We can let our undeniable “smallness” crush our spirit and live out our lives feeling powerless, doing nothing but sleep walking through the days knowing it “will all end anyhow, so why bother”.

Or…. We can connect with this vastness and rejoice that we are graced by the magic of being alive at this very moment of time with a body made up of the very stardust that inhabits all. Wow. How lucky are we? We are literally linked to everything in the universe.


So I sit beneath Gandalf’s Staff in the Styx Valley of the Giants waiting to meet up with the UNESCO World Heritage advisors — flown in via helicopter — to explain to them why these ancient forests should never be logged; even for the speciality timbers I might want to use. Simply put: There is no piece of art that is as beautiful as the standing old growth tree.

But why me? Why am I one of only three people chosen to talk on this issue.

Basically, who gives a shit as to why? The thing is, is that I was asked to do this. So I put down my tools in my studio and drove the eight hour round trip for a 30 minute session beneath this forest elder.

From each according to their ability. To each according to their need.

Yes, in many ways I am but a bit player in the role out of the magic carpet of life, but in this moment of time, our ancient forests need our collective help.

I’ll do whatever I can, no matter how seemingly small.


May Peace Prevail on Earth

November 16, 2015

If family stories are true, my father started primary school at 18 years of age and went straight through to a master’s degree in accounting.


He arrived in America by boat and, like most immigrants loved his new country. More often than not his eyes would well up with tears when he sang America’s national anthem.

Throughout his life, though, he felt the pressure of being a foreigner in a new land. His surname Adamov was changed to Adams, not because he was ashamed of his heritage, but discrimination against “foreigners” wouldn’t allow him the freedom to move up the social/economic ladder as quickly as his desires and needs to support a family wanted to move along.

As a young lad, my father spent the entirety of WWI in Serbia. As an adult and because of what he saw and experienced of war, he shunned conflict and worked hard to make friends of Catholics and other people outside his historic ethnic Serbian Orthodox religious biases — even marrying my mother, a Protestant.


“Within every wound their is the seed of hope.”

Our global society is being severely wounded. And tested.

Every culture, including my “adopted” country Australia, has an unconscious xenophobic fear of immigrants, asylum seekers and those newly arrived. It rises to the surface when stirred up by the insanity of terrorism, but also by shock jocks, politicians and religious leaders looking to promote their particular world view.


My father chose peace, forgiveness and compassion over millennia of fear, distrust and hatred of “The Other”.

Make no mistake, my father had some wide fault lines in his character after experiencing what he experienced as a youth. But his chosen path — however rocky — was towards Peace.

I can do nothing less than honour him and the path he chose by walking this path myself.

Perhaps, even changing my name back to Adamov?