{"title":"Landmarks","description":"","products":[{"product_id":"shallows","title":"Shallows","description":"\u003cstyle type=\"text\/css\"\u003e\u003c!--td {border: 1px solid #cccccc;}br {mso-data-placement:same-cell;}--\u003e\u003c\/style\u003e\n\u003cdiv dir=\"ltr\"\u003e\n\u003cdiv class=\"\"\u003e\n\u003cmeta charset=\"utf-8\"\u003e \u003cmeta charset=\"utf-8\"\u003e\n\u003c\/div\u003e\n\u003c\/div\u003e\n\u003cp\u003eAlison Erickson has lived and worked at\u003cspan\u003e \u003c\/span\u003e\u003cem\u003eThe Mill Studio\u003c\/em\u003e\u003cspan\u003e \u003c\/span\u003ein Waikari, North Canterbury since 1998. She sculpts and casts bronze on the premises, with her partner, Sam Mahon.\u003c\/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003eErickson has no formal art training other than serving the apprenticeship of casting a two-tonne bronze,\u003cspan\u003e \u003c\/span\u003e\u003cem\u003eThe Southern Man\u003c\/em\u003e, with Mahon.\u003c\/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003eSince then Erickson has exhibited each year around New Zealand and have three public sculptures:\u003cspan\u003e \u003c\/span\u003e\u003cem\u003eLooking for something that will last\u003c\/em\u003e, which stands on a rocky outcrop above Diamond Harbour Wharf,\u003cspan\u003e \u003c\/span\u003e\u003cem\u003eThe winds of change\u003c\/em\u003e, outside the Rangiora library and\u003cspan\u003e \u003c\/span\u003e\u003cem\u003eAll the worlds a stage\u003c\/em\u003e, at the Rangiora town hall.\u003c\/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003eHer work is held in private collections in NZ and in Australia, the UK and the USA.\u003c\/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u003cstrong data-mce-fragment=\"1\"\u003eDimensions: \u003c\/strong\u003e 210mm W x 150mm D x 490mm H\u003c\/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u003cmeta charset=\"utf-8\"\u003e\u003cstrong\u003eEdition: \u003c\/strong\u003e1\/1\u003c\/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e \u003c\/p\u003e","brand":"Alison Erickson","offers":[{"title":"Default Title","offer_id":45156018847899,"sku":null,"price":3400.0,"currency_code":"NZD","in_stock":false}],"thumbnail_url":"\/\/cdn.shopify.com\/s\/files\/1\/0459\/7183\/2987\/files\/Alison-Erickson-Shallows-01.jpg?v=1719966640"},{"product_id":"incremental-change","title":"Incremental Change","description":"\u003cstyle type=\"text\/css\"\u003e\u003c!--td {border: 1px solid #cccccc;}br {mso-data-placement:same-cell;}--\u003e\u003c\/style\u003e\n\u003cdiv dir=\"ltr\"\u003e\n\u003cdiv class=\"\"\u003e\n\u003cmeta charset=\"utf-8\"\u003e \u003cmeta charset=\"utf-8\"\u003e\n\u003c\/div\u003e\n\u003c\/div\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u003cspan data-mce-fragment=\"1\"\u003e\u003cb id=\"docs-internal-guid-f9e15318-7fff-06a1-7a1d-dc7209509e98\"\u003e\u003cspan\u003eLandmarks\u003c\/span\u003e\u003c\/b\u003e\u003c\/span\u003e\u003c\/p\u003e\n\u003cp dir=\"ltr\"\u003e\u003cem\u003e\"My father moved away last year, not too far away but far enough that everything felt different.  During a recent phone conversation, he admitted to feeling homesick for the shape, smell and colour of the landscape where he had lived most of his life. It reminded me of being overseas and being surprised by the continual ache I carried around like an extra backpack, this longing for the shape of the land. I remember trying to describe what it felt like when places on the river where I’d spent most of the best days of my life were no longer lovely places. Like if a church, the place where you felt safe and connected, was taken apart bit by bit until all that remained was rubble, the pages of the sacred books left blowing in the wind.  \u003c\/em\u003e\u003c\/p\u003e\n\u003cp dir=\"ltr\"\u003e\u003cem\u003eI realised I didn’t have a word to describe what my father was experiencing, this loss of a landscape as familiar and linked as the hallways of the family home. \u003c\/em\u003e\u003c\/p\u003e\n\u003cp dir=\"ltr\"\u003e\u003cem\u003eThere was an evening when I sat with my back against an ancient beech tree, the wind roaring in the canopy, the ground beneath me rising and falling with the movement of the tree pulling on is roots as a bird wove the last of the light into her song. These days on warm riverbeds, bodies curled around rocks, lying awake on the ground looking up through the leaves of an old poplar tree at the stars, these places within a familiar landscape are what we refer back to for the rest of our lives. What happens if these cairns, these riverbeds and wild empty places are taken away with a stroke of a pen and some fancy words on a document in a boardroom? \u003c\/em\u003e\u003c\/p\u003e\n\u003cp dir=\"ltr\"\u003e\u003cem\u003eBecause I couldn’t find a word, these small bronze works are my attempt to articulate an understanding and recognition of what my father was feeling when he went away and what we all feel when we go back to a loved place and find it gone.\" \u003c\/em\u003e\u003c\/p\u003e\n\u003cp dir=\"ltr\"\u003e\u003cmeta charset=\"utf-8\"\u003e\u003cspan\u003eAlison Erickson has lived and worked at\u003c\/span\u003e\u003cspan\u003e \u003c\/span\u003e\u003cem\u003eThe Mill Studio\u003c\/em\u003e\u003cspan\u003e \u003c\/span\u003e\u003cspan\u003ein Waikari, North Canterbury since 1998. She sculpts and casts bronze on the premises, with her partner, Sam Mahon.\u003c\/span\u003e\u003c\/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u003cstrong data-mce-fragment=\"1\"\u003eDimensions: \u003c\/strong\u003e 175mm W x 125mm D x 355mm H\u003c\/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u003cstrong\u003eFreight Note: \u003c\/strong\u003eDue to the size and nature of this work freight will be calculated post purchase.\u003c\/p\u003e","brand":"Alison Erickson","offers":[{"title":"Default Title","offer_id":45156036444315,"sku":null,"price":5800.0,"currency_code":"NZD","in_stock":true}],"thumbnail_url":"\/\/cdn.shopify.com\/s\/files\/1\/0459\/7183\/2987\/files\/Alison-Erickson-Incremental-Change-03.jpg?v=1719971088"},{"product_id":"erosion-ii","title":"Erosion II","description":"\u003cp\u003e\u003cspan data-mce-fragment=\"1\"\u003e\u003cb id=\"docs-internal-guid-f9e15318-7fff-06a1-7a1d-dc7209509e98\"\u003e\u003cspan\u003eLandmarks\u003c\/span\u003e\u003c\/b\u003e\u003c\/span\u003e\u003c\/p\u003e\n\u003cp dir=\"ltr\"\u003e\u003cem\u003e\"My father moved away last year, not too far away but far enough that everything felt different.  During a recent phone conversation, he admitted to feeling homesick for the shape, smell and colour of the landscape where he had lived most of his life. It reminded me of being overseas and being surprised by the continual ache I carried around like an extra backpack, this longing for the shape of the land. I remember trying to describe what it felt like when places on the river where I’d spent most of the best days of my life were no longer lovely places. Like if a church, the place where you felt safe and connected, was taken apart bit by bit until all that remained was rubble, the pages of the sacred books left blowing in the wind.  \u003c\/em\u003e\u003c\/p\u003e\n\u003cp dir=\"ltr\"\u003e\u003cem\u003eI realised I didn’t have a word to describe what my father was experiencing, this loss of a landscape as familiar and linked as the hallways of the family home. \u003c\/em\u003e\u003c\/p\u003e\n\u003cp dir=\"ltr\"\u003e\u003cem\u003eThere was an evening when I sat with my back against an ancient beech tree, the wind roaring in the canopy, the ground beneath me rising and falling with the movement of the tree pulling on is roots as a bird wove the last of the light into her song. These days on warm riverbeds, bodies curled around rocks, lying awake on the ground looking up through the leaves of an old poplar tree at the stars, these places within a familiar landscape are what we refer back to for the rest of our lives. What happens if these cairns, these riverbeds and wild empty places are taken away with a stroke of a pen and some fancy words on a document in a boardroom? \u003c\/em\u003e\u003c\/p\u003e\n\u003cp dir=\"ltr\"\u003e\u003cem\u003eBecause I couldn’t find a word, these small bronze works are my attempt to articulate an understanding and recognition of what my father was feeling when he went away and what we all feel when we go back to a loved place and find it gone.\" \u003c\/em\u003e\u003c\/p\u003e\n\u003cp dir=\"ltr\"\u003e\u003cmeta charset=\"utf-8\"\u003e\u003cspan\u003eAlison Erickson has lived and worked at\u003c\/span\u003e\u003cspan\u003e \u003c\/span\u003e\u003cem\u003eThe Mill Studio\u003c\/em\u003e\u003cspan\u003e \u003c\/span\u003e\u003cspan\u003ein Waikari, North Canterbury since 1998. She sculpts and casts bronze on the premises, with her partner, Sam Mahon.\u003c\/span\u003e\u003c\/p\u003e\n\u003cp dir=\"ltr\"\u003e\u003cstrong data-mce-fragment=\"1\"\u003eWork Dimensions:  \u003c\/strong\u003e \u003cspan data-sheets-root=\"1\"\u003e150mm W x 350mm D x 250mm H\u003c\/span\u003e\u003c\/p\u003e\n\u003cstyle type=\"text\/css\"\u003e\u003c!--td {border: 1px solid #cccccc;}br {mso-data-placement:same-cell;}--\u003e\u003c\/style\u003e\n\u003cp dir=\"ltr\"\u003e\u003cmeta charset=\"utf-8\"\u003e\u003cstrong data-mce-fragment=\"1\"\u003eFreight Note: \u003c\/strong\u003eDue to the size and nature of this work freight will be calculated post purchase\u003c\/p\u003e","brand":"Alison Erickson","offers":[{"title":"Default Title","offer_id":45644556796059,"sku":null,"price":6000.0,"currency_code":"NZD","in_stock":false}],"thumbnail_url":"\/\/cdn.shopify.com\/s\/files\/1\/0459\/7183\/2987\/files\/Erosion-II-01.jpg?v=1730248347"},{"product_id":"remnants","title":"Remnants","description":"\u003cp\u003e\u003cspan data-mce-fragment=\"1\"\u003e\u003cb id=\"docs-internal-guid-f9e15318-7fff-06a1-7a1d-dc7209509e98\"\u003e\u003cspan\u003eLandmarks\u003c\/span\u003e\u003c\/b\u003e\u003c\/span\u003e\u003c\/p\u003e\n\u003cp dir=\"ltr\"\u003e\u003cem\u003e\"My father moved away last year, not too far away but far enough that everything felt different.  During a recent phone conversation, he admitted to feeling homesick for the shape, smell and colour of the landscape where he had lived most of his life. It reminded me of being overseas and being surprised by the continual ache I carried around like an extra backpack, this longing for the shape of the land. I remember trying to describe what it felt like when places on the river where I’d spent most of the best days of my life were no longer lovely places. Like if a church, the place where you felt safe and connected, was taken apart bit by bit until all that remained was rubble, the pages of the sacred books left blowing in the wind.  \u003c\/em\u003e\u003c\/p\u003e\n\u003cp dir=\"ltr\"\u003e\u003cem\u003eI realised I didn’t have a word to describe what my father was experiencing, this loss of a landscape as familiar and linked as the hallways of the family home. \u003c\/em\u003e\u003c\/p\u003e\n\u003cp dir=\"ltr\"\u003e\u003cem\u003eThere was an evening when I sat with my back against an ancient beech tree, the wind roaring in the canopy, the ground beneath me rising and falling with the movement of the tree pulling on is roots as a bird wove the last of the light into her song. These days on warm riverbeds, bodies curled around rocks, lying awake on the ground looking up through the leaves of an old poplar tree at the stars, these places within a familiar landscape are what we refer back to for the rest of our lives. What happens if these cairns, these riverbeds and wild empty places are taken away with a stroke of a pen and some fancy words on a document in a boardroom? \u003c\/em\u003e\u003c\/p\u003e\n\u003cp dir=\"ltr\"\u003e\u003cem\u003eBecause I couldn’t find a word, these small bronze works are my attempt to articulate an understanding and recognition of what my father was feeling when he went away and what we all feel when we go back to a loved place and find it gone.\" \u003c\/em\u003e\u003c\/p\u003e\n\u003cp dir=\"ltr\"\u003e\u003cmeta charset=\"utf-8\"\u003e\u003cspan\u003eAlison Erickson has lived and worked at\u003c\/span\u003e\u003cspan\u003e \u003c\/span\u003e\u003cem\u003eThe Mill Studio\u003c\/em\u003e\u003cspan\u003e \u003c\/span\u003e\u003cspan\u003ein Waikari, North Canterbury since 1998. She sculpts and casts bronze on the premises, with her partner, Sam Mahon.\u003c\/span\u003e\u003c\/p\u003e\n\u003cp dir=\"ltr\"\u003e\u003cstrong data-mce-fragment=\"1\"\u003eWork Dimensions:  \u003c\/strong\u003e \u003cspan data-sheets-root=\"1\"\u003e310mm W x 130mm D x 280mm H\u003c\/span\u003e\u003c\/p\u003e\n\u003cstyle type=\"text\/css\"\u003e\u003c!--td {border: 1px solid #cccccc;}br {mso-data-placement:same-cell;}--\u003e\u003c\/style\u003e\n\u003cp dir=\"ltr\"\u003e\u003cmeta charset=\"utf-8\"\u003e\u003cstrong data-mce-fragment=\"1\"\u003eFreight Note: \u003c\/strong\u003eDue to the size and nature of this work freight will be calculated post purchase\u003c\/p\u003e","brand":"Alison Erickson","offers":[{"title":"Default Title","offer_id":45644558106779,"sku":null,"price":6000.0,"currency_code":"NZD","in_stock":true}],"thumbnail_url":"\/\/cdn.shopify.com\/s\/files\/1\/0459\/7183\/2987\/files\/Remnants-02.jpg?v=1730262323"},{"product_id":"cracks","title":"Cracks","description":"\u003cp\u003e\u003cspan data-mce-fragment=\"1\"\u003e\u003cb id=\"docs-internal-guid-f9e15318-7fff-06a1-7a1d-dc7209509e98\"\u003e\u003cspan\u003eLandmarks\u003c\/span\u003e\u003c\/b\u003e\u003c\/span\u003e\u003c\/p\u003e\n\u003cp dir=\"ltr\"\u003e\u003cem\u003e\"My father moved away last year, not too far away but far enough that everything felt different.  During a recent phone conversation, he admitted to feeling homesick for the shape, smell and colour of the landscape where he had lived most of his life. It reminded me of being overseas and being surprised by the continual ache I carried around like an extra backpack, this longing for the shape of the land. I remember trying to describe what it felt like when places on the river where I’d spent most of the best days of my life were no longer lovely places. Like if a church, the place where you felt safe and connected, was taken apart bit by bit until all that remained was rubble, the pages of the sacred books left blowing in the wind.  \u003c\/em\u003e\u003c\/p\u003e\n\u003cp dir=\"ltr\"\u003e\u003cem\u003eI realised I didn’t have a word to describe what my father was experiencing, this loss of a landscape as familiar and linked as the hallways of the family home. \u003c\/em\u003e\u003c\/p\u003e\n\u003cp dir=\"ltr\"\u003e\u003cem\u003eThere was an evening when I sat with my back against an ancient beech tree, the wind roaring in the canopy, the ground beneath me rising and falling with the movement of the tree pulling on is roots as a bird wove the last of the light into her song. These days on warm riverbeds, bodies curled around rocks, lying awake on the ground looking up through the leaves of an old poplar tree at the stars, these places within a familiar landscape are what we refer back to for the rest of our lives. What happens if these cairns, these riverbeds and wild empty places are taken away with a stroke of a pen and some fancy words on a document in a boardroom? \u003c\/em\u003e\u003c\/p\u003e\n\u003cp dir=\"ltr\"\u003e\u003cem\u003eBecause I couldn’t find a word, these small bronze works are my attempt to articulate an understanding and recognition of what my father was feeling when he went away and what we all feel when we go back to a loved place and find it gone.\" \u003c\/em\u003e\u003c\/p\u003e\n\u003cp dir=\"ltr\"\u003e\u003cmeta charset=\"utf-8\"\u003e\u003cspan\u003eAlison Erickson has lived and worked at\u003c\/span\u003e\u003cspan\u003e \u003c\/span\u003e\u003cem\u003eThe Mill Studio\u003c\/em\u003e\u003cspan\u003e \u003c\/span\u003e\u003cspan\u003ein Waikari, North Canterbury since 1998. She sculpts and casts bronze on the premises, with her partner, Sam Mahon.\u003c\/span\u003e\u003c\/p\u003e\n\u003cp dir=\"ltr\"\u003e\u003cstrong data-mce-fragment=\"1\"\u003eWork Dimensions:  \u003c\/strong\u003e \u003cspan data-sheets-root=\"1\"\u003e110mm W x 265mm D x 290mm H\u003c\/span\u003e\u003c\/p\u003e\n\u003cstyle type=\"text\/css\"\u003e\u003c!--td {border: 1px solid #cccccc;}br {mso-data-placement:same-cell;}--\u003e\u003c\/style\u003e\n\u003cp dir=\"ltr\"\u003e\u003cmeta charset=\"utf-8\"\u003e\u003cstrong data-mce-fragment=\"1\"\u003eFreight Note: \u003c\/strong\u003eDue to the size and nature of this work freight will be calculated post purchase\u003c\/p\u003e","brand":"Alison Erickson","offers":[{"title":"Default Title","offer_id":45644559548571,"sku":null,"price":5500.0,"currency_code":"NZD","in_stock":false}],"thumbnail_url":"\/\/cdn.shopify.com\/s\/files\/1\/0459\/7183\/2987\/files\/Cracks-01.jpg?v=1730248415"},{"product_id":"resting-place","title":"Resting Place","description":"\u003cp\u003e\u003cspan data-mce-fragment=\"1\"\u003e\u003cb id=\"docs-internal-guid-f9e15318-7fff-06a1-7a1d-dc7209509e98\"\u003e\u003cspan\u003eLandmarks\u003c\/span\u003e\u003c\/b\u003e\u003c\/span\u003e\u003c\/p\u003e\n\u003cp dir=\"ltr\"\u003e\u003cem\u003e\"My father moved away last year, not too far away but far enough that everything felt different.  During a recent phone conversation, he admitted to feeling homesick for the shape, smell and colour of the landscape where he had lived most of his life. It reminded me of being overseas and being surprised by the continual ache I carried around like an extra backpack, this longing for the shape of the land. I remember trying to describe what it felt like when places on the river where I’d spent most of the best days of my life were no longer lovely places. Like if a church, the place where you felt safe and connected, was taken apart bit by bit until all that remained was rubble, the pages of the sacred books left blowing in the wind.  \u003c\/em\u003e\u003c\/p\u003e\n\u003cp dir=\"ltr\"\u003e\u003cem\u003eI realised I didn’t have a word to describe what my father was experiencing, this loss of a landscape as familiar and linked as the hallways of the family home. \u003c\/em\u003e\u003c\/p\u003e\n\u003cp dir=\"ltr\"\u003e\u003cem\u003eThere was an evening when I sat with my back against an ancient beech tree, the wind roaring in the canopy, the ground beneath me rising and falling with the movement of the tree pulling on is roots as a bird wove the last of the light into her song. These days on warm riverbeds, bodies curled around rocks, lying awake on the ground looking up through the leaves of an old poplar tree at the stars, these places within a familiar landscape are what we refer back to for the rest of our lives. What happens if these cairns, these riverbeds and wild empty places are taken away with a stroke of a pen and some fancy words on a document in a boardroom? \u003c\/em\u003e\u003c\/p\u003e\n\u003cp dir=\"ltr\"\u003e\u003cem\u003eBecause I couldn’t find a word, these small bronze works are my attempt to articulate an understanding and recognition of what my father was feeling when he went away and what we all feel when we go back to a loved place and find it gone.\" \u003c\/em\u003e\u003c\/p\u003e\n\u003cp dir=\"ltr\"\u003e\u003cmeta charset=\"utf-8\"\u003e\u003cspan\u003eAlison Erickson has lived and worked at\u003c\/span\u003e\u003cspan\u003e \u003c\/span\u003e\u003cem\u003eThe Mill Studio\u003c\/em\u003e\u003cspan\u003e \u003c\/span\u003e\u003cspan\u003ein Waikari, North Canterbury since 1998. She sculpts and casts bronze on the premises, with her partner, Sam Mahon.\u003c\/span\u003e\u003c\/p\u003e\n\u003cp dir=\"ltr\"\u003e\u003cstrong data-mce-fragment=\"1\"\u003eWork Dimensions:  \u003c\/strong\u003e \u003cspan data-sheets-root=\"1\"\u003e100mm W x 265mm D x 290mm H\u003c\/span\u003e\u003c\/p\u003e\n\u003cstyle type=\"text\/css\"\u003e\u003c!--td {border: 1px solid #cccccc;}br {mso-data-placement:same-cell;}--\u003e\u003c\/style\u003e\n\u003cp dir=\"ltr\"\u003e\u003cmeta charset=\"utf-8\"\u003e\u003cstrong data-mce-fragment=\"1\"\u003eFreight Note: \u003c\/strong\u003eDue to the size and nature of this work freight will be calculated post purchase\u003c\/p\u003e","brand":"Alison Erickson","offers":[{"title":"Default Title","offer_id":45644560826523,"sku":null,"price":5000.0,"currency_code":"NZD","in_stock":false}],"thumbnail_url":"\/\/cdn.shopify.com\/s\/files\/1\/0459\/7183\/2987\/files\/Resting-Place-03.jpg?v=1730262959"},{"product_id":"ridgeline","title":"Ridgeline","description":"\u003cp\u003e\u003cspan data-mce-fragment=\"1\"\u003e\u003cb id=\"docs-internal-guid-f9e15318-7fff-06a1-7a1d-dc7209509e98\"\u003e\u003cspan\u003eLandmarks\u003c\/span\u003e\u003c\/b\u003e\u003c\/span\u003e\u003c\/p\u003e\n\u003cp dir=\"ltr\"\u003e\u003cem\u003e\"My father moved away last year, not too far away but far enough that everything felt different.  During a recent phone conversation, he admitted to feeling homesick for the shape, smell and colour of the landscape where he had lived most of his life. It reminded me of being overseas and being surprised by the continual ache I carried around like an extra backpack, this longing for the shape of the land. I remember trying to describe what it felt like when places on the river where I’d spent most of the best days of my life were no longer lovely places. Like if a church, the place where you felt safe and connected, was taken apart bit by bit until all that remained was rubble, the pages of the sacred books left blowing in the wind.  \u003c\/em\u003e\u003c\/p\u003e\n\u003cp dir=\"ltr\"\u003e\u003cem\u003eI realised I didn’t have a word to describe what my father was experiencing, this loss of a landscape as familiar and linked as the hallways of the family home. \u003c\/em\u003e\u003c\/p\u003e\n\u003cp dir=\"ltr\"\u003e\u003cem\u003eThere was an evening when I sat with my back against an ancient beech tree, the wind roaring in the canopy, the ground beneath me rising and falling with the movement of the tree pulling on is roots as a bird wove the last of the light into her song. These days on warm riverbeds, bodies curled around rocks, lying awake on the ground looking up through the leaves of an old poplar tree at the stars, these places within a familiar landscape are what we refer back to for the rest of our lives. What happens if these cairns, these riverbeds and wild empty places are taken away with a stroke of a pen and some fancy words on a document in a boardroom? \u003c\/em\u003e\u003c\/p\u003e\n\u003cp dir=\"ltr\"\u003e\u003cem\u003eBecause I couldn’t find a word, these small bronze works are my attempt to articulate an understanding and recognition of what my father was feeling when he went away and what we all feel when we go back to a loved place and find it gone.\" \u003c\/em\u003e\u003c\/p\u003e\n\u003cp dir=\"ltr\"\u003e\u003cmeta charset=\"utf-8\"\u003e\u003cspan\u003eAlison Erickson has lived and worked at\u003c\/span\u003e\u003cspan\u003e \u003c\/span\u003e\u003cem\u003eThe Mill Studio\u003c\/em\u003e\u003cspan\u003e \u003c\/span\u003e\u003cspan\u003ein Waikari, North Canterbury since 1998. She sculpts and casts bronze on the premises, with her partner, Sam Mahon.\u003c\/span\u003e\u003c\/p\u003e\n\u003cp dir=\"ltr\"\u003e\u003cstrong data-mce-fragment=\"1\"\u003eWork Dimensions:  \u003c\/strong\u003e \u003cspan data-sheets-root=\"1\"\u003e140mm W x 225mm D x 330mm H\u003c\/span\u003e\u003c\/p\u003e\n\u003cstyle type=\"text\/css\"\u003e\u003c!--td {border: 1px solid #cccccc;}br {mso-data-placement:same-cell;}--\u003e\u003c\/style\u003e\n\u003cp dir=\"ltr\"\u003e\u003cmeta charset=\"utf-8\"\u003e\u003cstrong data-mce-fragment=\"1\"\u003eFreight Note: \u003c\/strong\u003eDue to the size and nature of this work freight will be calculated post purchase\u003c\/p\u003e","brand":"Alison Erickson","offers":[{"title":"Default Title","offer_id":45644561973403,"sku":null,"price":4500.0,"currency_code":"NZD","in_stock":false}],"thumbnail_url":"\/\/cdn.shopify.com\/s\/files\/1\/0459\/7183\/2987\/files\/Ridgeline-02.jpg?v=1730248452"},{"product_id":"horizons","title":"Horizons","description":"\u003cp\u003e\u003cspan data-mce-fragment=\"1\"\u003e\u003cb id=\"docs-internal-guid-f9e15318-7fff-06a1-7a1d-dc7209509e98\"\u003e\u003cspan\u003eLandmarks\u003c\/span\u003e\u003c\/b\u003e\u003c\/span\u003e\u003c\/p\u003e\n\u003cp dir=\"ltr\"\u003e\u003cem\u003e\"My father moved away last year, not too far away but far enough that everything felt different.  During a recent phone conversation, he admitted to feeling homesick for the shape, smell and colour of the landscape where he had lived most of his life. It reminded me of being overseas and being surprised by the continual ache I carried around like an extra backpack, this longing for the shape of the land. I remember trying to describe what it felt like when places on the river where I’d spent most of the best days of my life were no longer lovely places. Like if a church, the place where you felt safe and connected, was taken apart bit by bit until all that remained was rubble, the pages of the sacred books left blowing in the wind.  \u003c\/em\u003e\u003c\/p\u003e\n\u003cp dir=\"ltr\"\u003e\u003cem\u003eI realised I didn’t have a word to describe what my father was experiencing, this loss of a landscape as familiar and linked as the hallways of the family home. \u003c\/em\u003e\u003c\/p\u003e\n\u003cp dir=\"ltr\"\u003e\u003cem\u003eThere was an evening when I sat with my back against an ancient beech tree, the wind roaring in the canopy, the ground beneath me rising and falling with the movement of the tree pulling on is roots as a bird wove the last of the light into her song. These days on warm riverbeds, bodies curled around rocks, lying awake on the ground looking up through the leaves of an old poplar tree at the stars, these places within a familiar landscape are what we refer back to for the rest of our lives. What happens if these cairns, these riverbeds and wild empty places are taken away with a stroke of a pen and some fancy words on a document in a boardroom? \u003c\/em\u003e\u003c\/p\u003e\n\u003cp dir=\"ltr\"\u003e\u003cem\u003eBecause I couldn’t find a word, these small bronze works are my attempt to articulate an understanding and recognition of what my father was feeling when he went away and what we all feel when we go back to a loved place and find it gone.\" \u003c\/em\u003e\u003c\/p\u003e\n\u003cp dir=\"ltr\"\u003e\u003cmeta charset=\"utf-8\"\u003e\u003cspan\u003eAlison Erickson has lived and worked at\u003c\/span\u003e\u003cspan\u003e \u003c\/span\u003e\u003cem\u003eThe Mill Studio\u003c\/em\u003e\u003cspan\u003e \u003c\/span\u003e\u003cspan\u003ein Waikari, North Canterbury since 1998. She sculpts and casts bronze on the premises, with her partner, Sam Mahon.\u003c\/span\u003e\u003c\/p\u003e\n\u003cp dir=\"ltr\"\u003e\u003cstrong data-mce-fragment=\"1\"\u003eWork Dimensions:   \u003c\/strong\u003e\u003cspan data-sheets-root=\"1\"\u003e140mm W x 320mm D x 250mm H\u003c\/span\u003e\u003c\/p\u003e\n\u003cstyle type=\"text\/css\"\u003e\u003c!--td {border: 1px solid #cccccc;}br {mso-data-placement:same-cell;}--\u003e\u003c\/style\u003e\n\u003cp dir=\"ltr\"\u003e\u003cmeta charset=\"utf-8\"\u003e\u003cstrong data-mce-fragment=\"1\"\u003eFreight Note: \u003c\/strong\u003eDue to the size and nature of this work freight will be calculated post purchase\u003c\/p\u003e","brand":"Alison Erickson","offers":[{"title":"Default Title","offer_id":45644563218587,"sku":null,"price":4000.0,"currency_code":"NZD","in_stock":false}],"thumbnail_url":"\/\/cdn.shopify.com\/s\/files\/1\/0459\/7183\/2987\/files\/Horizons-01.jpg?v=1730248469"},{"product_id":"encounter","title":"Encounter","description":"\u003cp\u003e\u003cspan data-mce-fragment=\"1\"\u003e\u003cb id=\"docs-internal-guid-f9e15318-7fff-06a1-7a1d-dc7209509e98\"\u003e\u003cspan\u003eLandmarks\u003c\/span\u003e\u003c\/b\u003e\u003c\/span\u003e\u003c\/p\u003e\n\u003cp dir=\"ltr\"\u003e\u003cem\u003e\"My father moved away last year, not too far away but far enough that everything felt different.  During a recent phone conversation, he admitted to feeling homesick for the shape, smell and colour of the landscape where he had lived most of his life. It reminded me of being overseas and being surprised by the continual ache I carried around like an extra backpack, this longing for the shape of the land. I remember trying to describe what it felt like when places on the river where I’d spent most of the best days of my life were no longer lovely places. Like if a church, the place where you felt safe and connected, was taken apart bit by bit until all that remained was rubble, the pages of the sacred books left blowing in the wind.  \u003c\/em\u003e\u003c\/p\u003e\n\u003cp dir=\"ltr\"\u003e\u003cem\u003eI realised I didn’t have a word to describe what my father was experiencing, this loss of a landscape as familiar and linked as the hallways of the family home. \u003c\/em\u003e\u003c\/p\u003e\n\u003cp dir=\"ltr\"\u003e\u003cem\u003eThere was an evening when I sat with my back against an ancient beech tree, the wind roaring in the canopy, the ground beneath me rising and falling with the movement of the tree pulling on is roots as a bird wove the last of the light into her song. These days on warm riverbeds, bodies curled around rocks, lying awake on the ground looking up through the leaves of an old poplar tree at the stars, these places within a familiar landscape are what we refer back to for the rest of our lives. What happens if these cairns, these riverbeds and wild empty places are taken away with a stroke of a pen and some fancy words on a document in a boardroom? \u003c\/em\u003e\u003c\/p\u003e\n\u003cp dir=\"ltr\"\u003e\u003cem\u003eBecause I couldn’t find a word, these small bronze works are my attempt to articulate an understanding and recognition of what my father was feeling when he went away and what we all feel when we go back to a loved place and find it gone.\" \u003c\/em\u003e\u003c\/p\u003e\n\u003cp dir=\"ltr\"\u003e\u003cmeta charset=\"utf-8\"\u003e\u003cspan\u003eAlison Erickson has lived and worked at\u003c\/span\u003e\u003cspan\u003e \u003c\/span\u003e\u003cem\u003eThe Mill Studio\u003c\/em\u003e\u003cspan\u003e \u003c\/span\u003e\u003cspan\u003ein Waikari, North Canterbury since 1998. She sculpts and casts bronze on the premises, with her partner, Sam Mahon.\u003c\/span\u003e\u003c\/p\u003e\n\u003cp dir=\"ltr\"\u003e\u003cstrong data-mce-fragment=\"1\"\u003eWork Dimensions:  \u003c\/strong\u003e \u003cspan data-sheets-root=\"1\"\u003e115mm W x 110mm D x 490mm H\u003c\/span\u003e\u003c\/p\u003e\n\u003cstyle type=\"text\/css\"\u003e\u003c!--td {border: 1px solid #cccccc;}br {mso-data-placement:same-cell;}--\u003e\u003c\/style\u003e\n\u003cp dir=\"ltr\"\u003e\u003cmeta charset=\"utf-8\"\u003e\u003cstrong data-mce-fragment=\"1\"\u003eFreight Note: \u003c\/strong\u003eDue to the size and nature of this work freight will be calculated post purchase\u003c\/p\u003e","brand":"Alison Erickson","offers":[{"title":"Default Title","offer_id":45644564431003,"sku":null,"price":5500.0,"currency_code":"NZD","in_stock":false}],"thumbnail_url":"\/\/cdn.shopify.com\/s\/files\/1\/0459\/7183\/2987\/files\/Encounter-01.jpg?v=1730248488"},{"product_id":"erosion-i","title":"Erosion I","description":"\u003cp\u003e\u003cspan data-mce-fragment=\"1\"\u003e\u003cb id=\"docs-internal-guid-f9e15318-7fff-06a1-7a1d-dc7209509e98\"\u003e\u003cspan\u003eLandmarks\u003c\/span\u003e\u003c\/b\u003e\u003c\/span\u003e\u003c\/p\u003e\n\u003cp dir=\"ltr\"\u003e\u003cem\u003e\"My father moved away last year, not too far away but far enough that everything felt different.  During a recent phone conversation, he admitted to feeling homesick for the shape, smell and colour of the landscape where he had lived most of his life. It reminded me of being overseas and being surprised by the continual ache I carried around like an extra backpack, this longing for the shape of the land. I remember trying to describe what it felt like when places on the river where I’d spent most of the best days of my life were no longer lovely places. Like if a church, the place where you felt safe and connected, was taken apart bit by bit until all that remained was rubble, the pages of the sacred books left blowing in the wind.  \u003c\/em\u003e\u003c\/p\u003e\n\u003cp dir=\"ltr\"\u003e\u003cem\u003eI realised I didn’t have a word to describe what my father was experiencing, this loss of a landscape as familiar and linked as the hallways of the family home. \u003c\/em\u003e\u003c\/p\u003e\n\u003cp dir=\"ltr\"\u003e\u003cem\u003eThere was an evening when I sat with my back against an ancient beech tree, the wind roaring in the canopy, the ground beneath me rising and falling with the movement of the tree pulling on is roots as a bird wove the last of the light into her song. These days on warm riverbeds, bodies curled around rocks, lying awake on the ground looking up through the leaves of an old poplar tree at the stars, these places within a familiar landscape are what we refer back to for the rest of our lives. What happens if these cairns, these riverbeds and wild empty places are taken away with a stroke of a pen and some fancy words on a document in a boardroom? \u003c\/em\u003e\u003c\/p\u003e\n\u003cp dir=\"ltr\"\u003e\u003cem\u003eBecause I couldn’t find a word, these small bronze works are my attempt to articulate an understanding and recognition of what my father was feeling when he went away and what we all feel when we go back to a loved place and find it gone.\" \u003c\/em\u003e\u003c\/p\u003e\n\u003cp dir=\"ltr\"\u003e\u003cmeta charset=\"utf-8\"\u003e\u003cspan\u003eAlison Erickson has lived and worked at\u003c\/span\u003e\u003cspan\u003e \u003c\/span\u003e\u003cem\u003eThe Mill Studio\u003c\/em\u003e\u003cspan\u003e \u003c\/span\u003e\u003cspan\u003ein Waikari, North Canterbury since 1998. She sculpts and casts bronze on the premises, with her partner, Sam Mahon.\u003c\/span\u003e\u003c\/p\u003e\n\u003cp dir=\"ltr\"\u003e\u003cstrong data-mce-fragment=\"1\"\u003eWork Dimensions:  \u003c\/strong\u003e \u003cspan data-sheets-root=\"1\"\u003e230mm W x 130mm D x 500mm H\u003c\/span\u003e\u003c\/p\u003e\n\u003cstyle type=\"text\/css\"\u003e\u003c!--td {border: 1px solid #cccccc;}br {mso-data-placement:same-cell;}--\u003e\u003c\/style\u003e\n\u003cp dir=\"ltr\"\u003e\u003cmeta charset=\"utf-8\"\u003e\u003cstrong data-mce-fragment=\"1\"\u003eFreight Note: \u003c\/strong\u003eDue to the size and nature of this work freight will be calculated post purchase\u003c\/p\u003e","brand":"Alison Erickson","offers":[{"title":"Default Title","offer_id":45644566724763,"sku":null,"price":9000.0,"currency_code":"NZD","in_stock":true}],"thumbnail_url":"\/\/cdn.shopify.com\/s\/files\/1\/0459\/7183\/2987\/files\/Erosion-I-01.jpg?v=1730248523"},{"product_id":"soldier-boy-with-a-stone","title":"Soldier \u0026 Boy with a Stone","description":"\u003cp\u003e\u003cspan data-mce-fragment=\"1\"\u003e\u003cb id=\"docs-internal-guid-f9e15318-7fff-06a1-7a1d-dc7209509e98\"\u003e\u003cspan\u003eLandmarks\u003c\/span\u003e\u003c\/b\u003e\u003c\/span\u003e\u003c\/p\u003e\n\u003cp dir=\"ltr\"\u003e\u003cem\u003e\"My father moved away last year, not too far away but far enough that everything felt different.  During a recent phone conversation, he admitted to feeling homesick for the shape, smell and colour of the landscape where he had lived most of his life. It reminded me of being overseas and being surprised by the continual ache I carried around like an extra backpack, this longing for the shape of the land. I remember trying to describe what it felt like when places on the river where I’d spent most of the best days of my life were no longer lovely places. Like if a church, the place where you felt safe and connected, was taken apart bit by bit until all that remained was rubble, the pages of the sacred books left blowing in the wind.  \u003c\/em\u003e\u003c\/p\u003e\n\u003cp dir=\"ltr\"\u003e\u003cem\u003eI realised I didn’t have a word to describe what my father was experiencing, this loss of a landscape as familiar and linked as the hallways of the family home. \u003c\/em\u003e\u003c\/p\u003e\n\u003cp dir=\"ltr\"\u003e\u003cem\u003eThere was an evening when I sat with my back against an ancient beech tree, the wind roaring in the canopy, the ground beneath me rising and falling with the movement of the tree pulling on is roots as a bird wove the last of the light into her song. These days on warm riverbeds, bodies curled around rocks, lying awake on the ground looking up through the leaves of an old poplar tree at the stars, these places within a familiar landscape are what we refer back to for the rest of our lives. What happens if these cairns, these riverbeds and wild empty places are taken away with a stroke of a pen and some fancy words on a document in a boardroom? \u003c\/em\u003e\u003c\/p\u003e\n\u003cp dir=\"ltr\"\u003e\u003cem\u003eBecause I couldn’t find a word, these small bronze works are my attempt to articulate an understanding and recognition of what my father was feeling when he went away and what we all feel when we go back to a loved place and find it gone.\" \u003c\/em\u003e\u003c\/p\u003e\n\u003cp dir=\"ltr\"\u003e\u003cmeta charset=\"utf-8\"\u003e\u003cspan\u003eAlison Erickson has lived and worked at\u003c\/span\u003e\u003cspan\u003e \u003c\/span\u003e\u003cem\u003eThe Mill Studio\u003c\/em\u003e\u003cspan\u003e \u003c\/span\u003e\u003cspan\u003ein Waikari, North Canterbury since 1998. She sculpts and casts bronze on the premises, with her partner, Sam Mahon.\u003c\/span\u003e\u003c\/p\u003e\n\u003cp dir=\"ltr\"\u003e \u003c\/p\u003e\n\u003cp dir=\"ltr\"\u003e\u003cstrong data-mce-fragment=\"1\"\u003eWork Dimensions:  \u003cmeta charset=\"utf-8\"\u003e\u003c\/strong\u003e\u003cspan data-sheets-root=\"1\"\u003e220mm W x 145mm D x 370mm H\u003c\/span\u003e\u003c\/p\u003e\n\u003cstyle type=\"text\/css\"\u003e\u003c!--td {border: 1px solid #cccccc;}br {mso-data-placement:same-cell;}--\u003e\u003c\/style\u003e\n\u003cp dir=\"ltr\"\u003e\u003cmeta charset=\"utf-8\"\u003e\u003cstrong data-mce-fragment=\"1\"\u003eFreight Note: \u003c\/strong\u003eDue to the size and nature of this work freight will be calculated post purchase\u003c\/p\u003e","brand":"Alison Erickson","offers":[{"title":"Default Title","offer_id":45644567511195,"sku":null,"price":5800.0,"currency_code":"NZD","in_stock":true}],"thumbnail_url":"\/\/cdn.shopify.com\/s\/files\/1\/0459\/7183\/2987\/files\/Soldier-and-Boy-with-a-Stone-02.jpg?v=1730422707"}],"url":"https:\/\/nzartbroker.com\/collections\/landmarks.oembed","provider":"NZ artbroker","version":"1.0","type":"link"}