We’re kind of new here
Words–
Nat Woods
@nat.woods_
Muse & Photos–
Tom Brown and Alana Potts
Photos–
Alana Potts @alanapotts
Karly Potts @gnkarly
Adam Potts @admpotts
Jacob Jones @jjones_photo
Living in the Northern Rivers there is a constant pull between the ocean and the hills. While both are easily accessible from each other, it still feels like a lifestyle choice to be by the sea or nestled among the trees just a little inland. Returning to the region after a stint in Brisbane, graphic designer, Alana Potts and carpenter, Tom Brown, chose not to return to their childhood home of Lennox Head, but to give life in the hills a go.
Who lives here and how long have you been here?
Tom Brown and Alana Potts. We’ve returned to the part of the world we once grew up in together for a nice, neat year now. We live in what used to be the beating heart of a town in the Byron Bay Hinterland
– our house is secondary to a big roadside shed that was once the general store, post office, service station and mechanics. It was the only place that sold icecreams in the area. The rusted old petrol bowser out the front makes for an iconic point of reference. It closed down when petrol cost 87 cents a litre. We’re surrounded by farmland and the back of our property looks out to an ancient piece of the Big Scrub, full of native foods. Within the fenceline, we’re lucky enough to have walked into an abundance of fruit trees where we live – we started our time here with baskets full of mandarins, lemons and limes that transitioned into mulberries and stonefruit and now we’re enjoying figs from the tree out the back. We’re both makers and our house is a collection of things made, given or found – Tom’s built most of our furniture from recycled hardwood and our dining table is our Nonni’s from the 50’s. There’s a vintage TV chair that means something; it was found on the side of the road in Lismore a few years ago and restored by three generations – my sister, mum, and Nonna.
After living in Brisbane, how has the ‘tree-change’ to the Byron hinterland been?
It’s been a welcome shift in lifestyle and general practice. Community isn’t a metre away through the bathroom window or knocking on your door like it was in West End, Brisbane, but it is a short drive to town, in the surf or at an event. Where there’s a bunch of different communities you can identify with and be apart of in a city without necessarily touching, here, it’s a big community in a small town – a saturated ecosystem of everything – inclusive of all those parts that were unique for their differences in Brisbane. People are better connected and there’s a lot of love, acceptance and appreciation; we learn to live and come together, and then, find our smaller piece of community within that. We’ve let ourselves settle like dust would and move in the direction of those with who we naturally align with.
We’re still doing things we did in the city; cooking from the garden, topping it up at the markets, enjoying sunsets on the hill, just with cows as composters – eating our left over produce – and with uninterrupted views. With a year we have perspective – we’re living noticeably slower, with routine and ritual and greater care for self, which in turn has allowed for rest and presence. For us, it’s been a return to purpose and passion and a conscious movement toward living well – in life, in love and in our careers. We’re living simply and happily. Being fulfilled means we have the space to give often, where we mightn’t have had that before.
“With a year we have perspective; we’re living noticeably slower; with routine and ritual and greater care for self, which in turn has allowed for rest and presence.”
WORDS TO INSPIRE–
01. CREATIVITY
02. BUSH FOODS
03. SEASONS
04. COMMUNITY
05. HERITAGE
What is your favourite time of day at home?
Tom: Afternoons. French doors open from the dining room onto a big old deck that gives us a view to the neighbouring farms beyond our own patch. Look right and you can see the sunset and the cows over the road. Most days we’ll walk the dogs closer to sunset or take the short drive down to the creek to cool off. I’ll sink into the afternoon on the hammock and watch the flight path and the clouds fade from orange through to purple. It’s about that time the cicadas start to deafen and we’ll enjoy dinner out there with last light (and all the mozzies).
Alana: When the sun’s at its start and end – both sunrise and sunset here are super lovely. In the mornings, the sun peaks over the reserve, the animals start to wake up, the land warms up and the grass dries. It’s when nature is at its noisiest and the rest of the world here is at its quietest.
You work from home part of the week. What does your creative routine look like on those days?
Alana: It starts with a coffee and breakfast, opening all the doors and windows and then a stretch on the deck. A mental note of the things I’m grateful for. A run with the dogs through the paddock. A look at what might have popped up overnight in the veggie patch. It adds up to a few minutes of calm before the chaos of the day ensues. The rest of it flows differently every time. It varies depending on the kind of work for that day; whether it’s a design day, a shoot day, an editing day, a meeting day, or a mix of it all. On a branding day, I’ll open my laptop at 8am and it might not close until 11pm. There’ll be mood boards on the walls and kraft paper all over the floor and I might have migrated to the dining room by lunch for more room. If I remember it’s lunch, I’ll take myself up to Federal for a Moonshine coffee and some Doma sushi. Back home, I’ll have Ziggy sleeping on my feet for the rest of the day and Zeus beside me until the cicadas reappear. It’s really hot so we’ll probably head down to Belongil for a dip when they do.
After growing up in Lennox, what changes have you seen in the region since moving back?
There’s more noise, more people, social media has had its effect and it’s as expensive as it’s ever been to live here. Sink beneath the surface of the brands and people that capitalise on ‘Byron Bay’ and you’ll find a different kind of noise – an entrepreneurial community and a conscious and creative community who genuinely care and are as loud as they’ve always been.
Top five things to do in your neck of the woods?
1: We’re the postcode of roadside stalls. Springvale Road gives way to a flower stall, always filled everyday with fresh flowers from an elderly woman’s garden. Exchange a few coins here for the smile of someone else. A little further up the road and you’ll find La Finca Eggs – the best farm eggs we’ve had and some very happy chooks. The Eureka Hall stall is stacked with honey, fruits and different parts and pieces of people’s gardens and labours. The money goes back into the maintenance of the hall.
2: When we’re not at home, we’re at Clunes. There’s a dinner pop up at the cafe on Thursday nights, alongside some live music. Bring a glass and enjoy the selection of natural wine or craft beers that have made our transition from urban to rural so much easier. Best bring some chairs, it’s usually busy.
3: If we don’t make it there, we’ll get takeaway pizza from Our Corner Kitchen in Bangalow on Friday and drive to the headland at Broken Head with a bottle of wine to enjoy it.
4: Eltham Pub. One of our favourite old pubs from our childhood has switched hands – the beer taps have had a re-jig along with the dining room and there’s a bright red pool table to keep things interesting. The menu is fresh and big and really, really yum. Sleepy Eltham is catching up without losing the charm we love.
5: When the beach feels too far away, there’s a fresh water cascade that’s walking distance and just down the road from us. After rain, you’ll find freshwater mussels and be able to take a ride on the current all the way down to the next waterhole. But, I’m not going to tell you where it is – it’s something we found by chance on a wrong turn, so maybe you will too.
Originally published in Paradiso Issue 13
