Where Mary Lucier burned the vidicon tube with the rising sun, Platten subjected the fragile technology of video to the extreme heat of Ochre Point in South Australia – in that temperature it would not have been long before the camera fried. She also exposed to the scorching sun the thin cutaneous membrane that covers her body. In the video, her pale skin submits to the celestial ball of fire that will one day consume the earth she treads so awkwardly, with two spheres strapped to her feet. The absurd, self-imposed handicap to her mobility and her insane noon-day sun bathing stand as a warning to a humanity still blithely depleting the ozone layer. At the same time, her painful progress across Ochre Point expresses both shame and regret that the colour of her skin with its patent unsuitability to the climatic conditions of South Australia associates her with a dark history of British colonialism. The artist has written that as a non-Indigenous artist, she cannot feel grounded, because, she says, she is not “rightful of a place in this country”.^[7] This work evades landscape aestheticism and departs radically from the familiar format of a celebrity globetrotter posing in front of a “marvellous” view of some far-flung part of the world. Platten’s naked performance highlights the politics of being there as an outsider filtered through a portrayal of nature as a raw material phenomenon, a physical body interlaced with other, self-propelled earthly entities. By creating what Robert Vischer called “kindred objects”, these works by Welsby, Kunuk and Platten not only assert the indivisibility of all life on earth, but also forge an empathic connectivity between the body of the artist and that of the viewer, connecting across the porous membrane that is the skin of the film.^[8]  The moving image elicits muscle and nerve memories that enable us to feel the heat of the Australian outback, the frozen tundra of the Inuit homeland like an echo, deep in our own bodies.