Gabrielle's process charts her movements and thoughts as they play out on the canvas and questions the liquidity of materials in use, and revels in the joy of life. When I was seven, I nearly drowned. I mean, a “passed-out and needed rescue” type of drowning. My memories of that could be framed in opposites: the pounding of my heart and the quiet of the engulfing water; dark of the depths and the light of the ascent to surface; the tossing of the rip and the strong flow of the undercurrent; the strength in surviving and the fragility of life; the speed of change from safety to danger- and the stretched time of the experience of near-drowning; the liminal place between life and death, here and gone. Looking back, I realise that this has been a formative event in so much of my life -not least that I now see it influences my work. My forms often challenge their boundaries in a bid for freedom and release -canvases are butted up to make a pathway and extend the reach of forms; figures release their energy from a flat surface that engulfs and defy gravity; subjects cross boundaries between still life and movement; and forms move from naturalism to expressionism. Many circle back on themselves, reliving the experience. All seek the presence beyond logic.