In Return – Georgina Reid It is impossible to meander through life without entanglement. Without becoming both knotted and unspooled, woven and unwoven. It is possible, however, to be unaware of the threads that bind. To exist in a place where the fine silken string that ties me and you, rock and heron, mud and star is rendered invisible. Blotted out by the noise. Swept away by the speed. This shimmering thread makes and unmakes worlds. If you trace it with curiosity and attention, like Joshua Yeldham, you will rise to the moon and sink to the bottom of the river. You will climb mountain peaks and dissolve into the space between rock and sky. You will laugh and cry and draw and make and where you've been might best be described as a mystery. What is less mysterious is where the thread leads: It returns, always, to the earth beneath our soft-soled animal feet. Yeldham's work is an act of tending and care, weaving and reweaving. See Surrender Tree. See how he wraps the ancient mangrove with line and light and the tenderest touch. Follow the bands of cane adorning the sinuous trunk, tapping into invisible energetic realms. Trace the strings running from node to node, lines of support and connection. Track the tiny, intricate marks carved and scraped and drilled into the tree trunks. See how the light – glistening and alive – emerges from the canopy, coaxed by Yeldham's hand. It is not enough only to imagine care. No, it is a physical act. Now imagine, for a minute, being a spider. Climb to the highest point you can, raise your stomach to the sun and release your finest silken gossamer. Wait. Wait. Wait. Until the wind catches the thread and pulls you aloft, soaring skyward towards worlds unknown. Ballooning, it’s called, this act of trust in sky and silk. As illustrated in Fertility Tree – Morning Bay, it is an action of release and connection, weaving and unravelling. 'I've created my own language in the trees,' Yeldham says of the work. He talks of caress, how sometimes ideas and energies touch us in places quiet and hidden yet eternal. How a web is also an embrace. Looping strands glimmer and dance in the iridescent light, linking branch to sky and beyond. Winding cane webs spiral softly in the wind. There is movement here. Energy here. Release here. Surrender. Yes, surrender to the shimmering thread. All images courtesy the artist and Arthouse Gallery.