Finding light in the Mandala
by TIM READ
11th June 2026
WHEN TREAD Sculptures’ Mandala took out first place in the Estate Division at the Melbourne International Flower & Garden Show this year, it was a proud moment.
As someone who never studied art and learnt to weld repairing machinery rather than attending art school, receiving recognition at one of Australia’s premier garden shows was both humbling and rewarding.
But for me, the significance of the Mandala runs much deeper than the award.
The piece was created during a particularly difficult period of my life.
There was a lot happening around mental health, grief and loss, both personally and amongst people close to me.
At the same time, filmmaker Jack Morrow was producing a short documentary called Heavy Metal, which explored my arts practice and the role creativity has played in helping me manage my own mental health.
As part of that project, I created a sculpture carrying a great deal of emotional weight.
I hoped the process of making it would bring the same sense of release and healing that art had provided me at other times in my life.
When the documentary was complete, however, I was surprised to find I still felt unsettled.
The resolution I had been searching for hadn’t really arrived.
Meanwhile, another piece was quietly taking shape in the studio.
The Mandala was a major collaboration between myself and glass artist Rob Haley.
While Rob painstakingly assembled more than 500 individual pieces of stained glass, I worked on the steel structure that would support and frame it.
As often happens with large collaborative works, we spent months working separately before bringing our two halves together.
When the piece was finally assembled, something unexpected happened.
Normally, once a sculpture is finished I’m eager to photograph it, list it for sale and share it with the world.
But with the Mandala I couldn’t do that.
The finished work sat in the studio for weeks.
Both Rob and I found ourselves strangely affected by it.
Neither of us could quite explain why.
The Mandala seemed to possess a presence that demanded time and reflection.
Eventually I realised that something important had shifted.
The healing and sense of acceptance I had hoped to find through the mental health sculpture had quietly emerged through the creation of the Mandala instead.
It wasn’t something I had planned or intended.
It was simply something that happened through the process of making.
When I later explored the meaning and history of mandalas, the experience made sense.
Across many cultures, mandalas are associated with balance, wholeness, contemplation, and healing.
Without consciously setting out to create those things, the work had become a vehicle for them.
There was another surprise hidden within the sculpture.
As the design evolved, I realised the structure could be engineered to rotate despite weighing approximately 1.2 tonnes.
The finished piece can be turned to catch changing light throughout the day and across the seasons, allowing the glass to constantly reveal different colours, reflections, and moods.
Today the Mandala sits overlooking our studio, home, and sculpture garden in Bend of Islands.
Winning at the Melbourne International Flower & Garden Show was a wonderful honour, but the true value of the piece isn’t measured by awards.
For me, the Mandala stands as a reminder that art doesn’t always heal us in the ways we expect.
Sometimes the work we think is about one thing quietly becomes about something else entirely.
See for yourself
Tread Sculptures will be holding an Open Studio on July 24 to 26, 10am to 4pm.
Find him at 225 Catani Boulevard, Bend of Islands.|
To find out more or to arrange an appointment outside of this event, visit treadsculptures.com.au.
