An egg carved from a horse's thighbone. An oldfashioned glass vial dusty with powdered bone. Tiny bird wing bones arranged in a careful spiral. Memories of a lost figure blasted against a wall like a nuclear shadow. A small table piled with neat pyramids of pomegranates, offerings to unknown gods or lost friends. A solitary rowing boat, without oars or sailor, drifting on a featureless sea at the end of the world. The imagery of Australian sculptor Peter Tilley hovers continuously between life and death, hope and fury, despair and atonement. Like an eternal Day of Judgement, each sculpture seems to repeatedly plead for answers: Am I worthy? What happens when I die? Will you keep your side of the bargain? What can I do to protect myself?