Neil Cash is a photographer and visual artist based in Kyneton, Central Victoria. He really struggles with the awkwardness of writing in the third person.

I’m lucky enough to live in a beautiful landscape in the Macedon Ranges, and have focused much of my recent work here, both as a photographer and an artist. As a commercial photographer, with over 25 years of professional experience in studio and on location, I work alongside some exceptional brands and agencies in Central Victoria to produce high quality content for their marketing campaigns.

Having grappled for many years with how to separate my commercial and artistic personas, I’ve happily realised that they actually perfectly co-exist. Demanding a creative approach to real estate shoots is equally as important as adopting a business approach to being an artist. The only dilemma remaining is finding the balance of time for each discipline. As an artist, I’m constantly growing, constantly looking for new ways to see the same things. The blending of traditional art techniques and digital manipulation is so engrained in my work, that I’m often left wondering where one ends and the other begins.

From early days of childhood, nature has always been a part of my life, from misty treks over the bleak and foreboding moorland of northern England to the vast open skies of Australia, where the nervous excitement of varying invisible rustles of dangerous mammals keeps you firmly on your toes.

Photographing, drawing, observing, writing and often just being in the evolving landscape. It’s the hidden creatures and characters I’m searching for, imagining and creating in my own work. They’re in the rocks, the trees and the spaces in between. They appear over time, sometimes over many views of those same marks, lines and shapes. And then they’re forever. Unable to be unseen. Locked in the vision and locked in the artwork. 

It’s another beautiful crisp morning and we’re headed to Black Hill for a walk. There’s the luring whiff of smoky bushfire in the air from back burning and the sun hides behind the haze, leaving the perfect temperature for some natural exercise. 

I take the hardest route this morning. Clockwise around the north and east and then up to the summit off the south side. A double climb with the reward of ancient monoliths, blackened trees and panoramic views of the Macedon Ranges. 

I rest at the top on one such rock and take in the vista offered by the gap in the trees. I guess you’d call it morning reflection time, except my eyes are racing, and I’m not reflecting, I’m creating. There is a myriad of shapes and textures to process, changing constantly as the light dances through the lightly swaying branches. I’ve sat here countless times and every day I see something I’ve previously missed. The dogs are on high alert. The prick of an ear and the crack of a twig sends our eyes simultaneously in a new direction. 

I’m scouring a hundred mini landscapes for the signs of camouflaged creatures. I know they’re there, they know I’m here and I know I often stare right through them. They hide in full sight, and once we lock eyes, we both know this will be a short lived moment.