The complete list of Bluethumb artists from A to Z. | Page 99

Aurora Gray

Melbourne, Australia

See Portfolio (9)

Numb

Oil, 38.1cm (W) x 50.8cm (H)

A$2,830

Walls Caving In

Oil, 21cm (W) x 15.7cm (H)

A$440

Goddess Psyche

Oil, 58.5cm (W) x 25cm (H)

A$3,650

Untitled

Oil, 50.8cm (W) x 76.2cm (H)

A$3,480

Aurora Mok

Adelaide

See Portfolio (1)

Freedom

Acrylic, 100cm (W) x 70cm (H)

A$600

Austin Flowers

Sydney

See Portfolio (149)

Icky Sticky

Ceramic, 7cm (W) x 16cm (H)

A$200

Mitey

Ceramic, 8cm (W) x 10cm (H)

A$200

Saucy

Ceramic, 10cm (W) x 24cm (H)

A$280

Ginful (gloss black)

Ceramic, 7cm (W) x 21cm (H)

A$220

Ava Long

Brisbane, Australia

See Portfolio (11)

The images of this work were taken on a iPhone 14- I only ever buy something expensive if it is absolutely necessary. I have lost almost all my savings from not being able to work due to trauma- and on all the art supplies that I need in order to make work that helps me cope. I bought this iPhone 14 for the camera- I knew it would be perfect for photography. It was one of my best investments

Flowers to heal my soul

Acrylic, 41cm (W) x 51cm (H)

A$110

This work was made on a wooden canvas and painted with oil sticks. I remember getting the oil sticks from my art shed; and I remember how in like 3 days they were all run out. A lot of these works were made with the remaining supplies- I consider that to be a fun challenge- as it is more abstract and using your creativity/ resources instead of having a specific vision for your work- you just go with the flow.

Flowers to heal my soul #2

Acrylic, 30cm (W) x 39cm (H)

A$110

I used water colour pencils on a canvas peice of paper, adding more and more colour blocks until it filled the page completely

Flowers to ease my mind

Drawing, 43cm (W) x 30cm (H)

A$110

I made these works using large text that would cover the canvas and glued them onto a foam sheet and cut out the letters to make stencils. I had to measure the text size to the size I would want them to be on the canvas, then outlined the stencils with a pencil and painted the outline in white. Originally the artwork was going to tay simply painted, but I have a passion for embroidery from a very young age and I felt the work would have more emphasis if I embroidered all the words and focused on the background as well. The thread I used for the words is messy and all encompassing- it’s a peice that shows me as an artist, someone who never gives up even when the embrodiery causes pain.

I’m so tired, not just physically

Other Media, 51cm (W) x 30cm (H)

A$450

Ava Pracilio

Cairns

See Portfolio (35)

Erotic

Mixed Media, 101.6cm (W) x 152cm (H)

A$1,310

Experimenting

Acrylic, 40.6cm (W) x 20.3cm (H)

A$140

Sensual

Acrylic, 91.5cm (W) x 38.5cm (H)

A$470

Kiss kiss

Mixed Media, 122cm (W) x 60.5cm (H)

A$610

Ava Fairburn

Gold Coast

See Portfolio (3)

The Phone Works Both Ways

Oil, 45cm (W) x 35cm (H)

A$750

Progression

Other Media, 34cm (W) x 66cm (H)

A$200

Observer

Oil, 50cm (W) x 71cm (H)

A$400

Avanthi Dawe

Melbourne Australia

See Portfolio (3)

Avni Dabasiya

Sydney

See Portfolio (1)

The Watcher

Acrylic, 40cm (W) x 50cm (H)

A$750

Avril Louise Godfrey

Pt Adelaide

See Portfolio (14)

Ayden Emini

Melbourne

See Portfolio (5)

Imagine Synthetic Yellow as a living presence—something you could reach out and touch, and it would feel almost alien. Its surface is uneven and alive: parts feel smooth like polished plastic, others are coarse or rubbery, like industrial materials fused with skin. It gives off the sense of being manufactured rather than born.

The entire form is coated in a synthetic-feeling heat, like the warmth of something electric or chemically reactive. It doesn’t feel soft or comforting—instead, it's sharp, buzzing, intense. Like the tang of citrus in the air mixed with the faint sterile scent of a hospital or tech lab.

All over this being are small protrusions, almost like piercings—but more structural than decorative. You could run your hand over its surface and feel these tiny spikes, studs, or clamps sticking out in patterns. They don’t seem to pierce deeply—they’re more like removable additions, as if the body is a modular canvas meant to be reconfigured at will. There's no blood or pain here, just experimentation.

Emotionally, the piece communicates a sense of transformation and artificial identity. It’s not trying to imitate nature—it’s proudly synthetic. It asks: What if our bodies could be updated like apps? What if adornment didn’t have to be permanent to be powerful? It plays with the boundary between the organic and the fabricated, and it invites you to rethink what beauty, pain, and self-expression can mean in a world where everything—even identity—can be downloaded, pierced on, or peeled away.

Synthetic Yellow

Mixed Media, 600cm (W) x 900cm (H)

A$1,200

The artwork is called Seventh Reflection. It's a piece that plays with texture, space, and the concept of mirrors as portals to other worlds.

Imagine a canvas that feels rough and layered, almost like hardened earth or weathered stone. It's covered in dark materials—thick paint and textured surfaces that absorb light and feel almost heavy to the touch. This darkness gives the piece a sense of depth, like standing on the edge of a void or staring into something infinite.

Embedded into this surface are six small mirrors, each about the size of a hand or smaller. These mirrors are cold, smooth, and scattered across the canvas in no particular pattern. If you were to touch them, you’d feel sudden shifts in temperature and texture—sharp interruptions in the roughness of the surface. They’re reflective, of course, but not just in the literal sense. They're meant to represent moments or glimpses into other realities—windows into different versions of time, space, or even self.

What makes the piece more intriguing is that there's a seventh mirror, but it’s been hidden—completely covered over by dark paint. You can’t see it, and even if you touched the surface, it might not be immediately obvious that something is buried there. It’s meant to evoke mystery—what’s lost, hidden, or unreachable. It suggests the idea that not everything we search for can be found, and not every reflection is visible.

This piece isn’t just meant to be looked at—it’s meant to be felt, physically and emotionally. It invites the viewer—or the listener—to think about perception, alternate dimensions, and the layers of self we can access or lose across time.

Seventh Reflection

Mixed Media, 600cm (W) x 950cm (H)

A$800

My Bedroom is an artwork I created during Melbourne’s strict lockdowns. Like many, I was isolated from friends and everyday life—but at the same time, I was navigating the early stages of understanding my sexuality, which added a much deeper, more personal layer to that solitude.

The piece uses dark, moody colours—tones that, for me, felt heavy, sad, and almost suffocating. They reflect the depression and emotional weight I carried during that time. My bedroom, which had always been my safe haven, slowly turned into something more toxic. Without routine or connection, time lost meaning. Every day felt like the one before, stretching endlessly through that year.

This artwork became a way for me to process that experience. It speaks to how spaces—especially ones we rely on for comfort—can shift in meaning when we’re forced to confront parts of ourselves we’re not yet ready to face. It’s about emotional claustrophobia, the blur of time, and the silent ache of self-discovery in isolation.

my bedroom

Other Media, 910cm (W) x 1220cm (H)

A$1,000