Australian Wildlife Art Crafted With Eucalyptus Leaf Ink

---

I paint koalas because I know them—not as symbols, but as survivors. Each portrait has a story.

As a rescue and care volunteer at Port Stephens Koala Hospital, I’ve come to understand their fragility, their resilience, and their food preferences. Koalas are incredibly selective eaters, and their survival depends on access to specific eucalyptus species. That’s why I paint with eucalyptus leaf ink—made from the very leaves they’ve chewed and discarded.

Each artwork begins with quiet observation. I study reference images closely—not chasing realism, but noticing posture, gaze, and subtle quirks that speak to their personality. And sometimes, when you care about something deeply, and you're an artist, it’s instinctual to express that love through visual interpretation.

Each of my koala portraits honours a real koala we’ve cared for—individuals we’ve come to know deeply through rescue and rehabilitation. These aren’t animals raised in captivity. Every koala brought into care is a survivor.

They carry stories etched in resilience: hit by cars and somehow pulling through, suffering horrific injuries from dog attacks, losing toes after being chased up a tree by a lace monitor, or being snatched and dropped by an eagle. These aren’t imagined tales—they’re lived experiences.

Through art, I aim to show you a side of koalas you may not have seen—their incredible claws built for climbing, their curious eyes that quietly assess whether you are a threat and the subtle quirks that make each one unique. By sharing their stories, we help others learn what to look out for, when to call a wildlife organisation, and how to reduce the human impact on koala survival.

Awareness begins with connection—and connection begins with story.

Before I began volunteering at Port Stephens Koala Hospital, I thought all eucalyptus trees were the same. I quickly learned otherwise. Koalas are incredibly fussy eaters—and they need to be. Of the more than 600 eucalyptus species in Australia, most koalas will regularly eat only one to three species in their local area. Some leaves they’ll ignore completely. Others can make them dangerously ill.

Their survival depends on access to their preferred food trees. That knowledge deepened my respect for their habitat. Preserving existing koala food trees isn’t optional. You can’t simply plant new ones elsewhere to replace what’s been cleared. Their leaf is precious.

At the hospital, I collect the chewed-up remnants of these leaves—leftovers from the koalas’ feed. There’s a huge trailer full of them, and I often find myself rummaging through it, searching for the right mix. From these discarded leaves, I make ink.

When I paint, I pair the ink with the individual koala’s preferred food source. It’s my way of honouring their story, their biology, and the trees they depend on. The ink carries more than colour—it carries connection.

I’m not chasing realism. But when you know koalas intimately—as you must in koala rescue and care —anatomical accuracy matters. I’d never paint a koala with round pupils. They have distinctive vertical slits, and that detail matters.

Each artwork begins with quiet observation. I spend time carefully studying the reference image—looking beyond the pose to notice posture, gaze, fur texture, and subtle quirks that hint at personality. It’s not just about likeness; it’s about presence.

And sometimes, when you care about something deeply, and you're an artist, it’s instinctual to express that love through visual interpretation. The process becomes a kind of devotion—translating connection into marks, gestures, and form.

My goal is to capture character, honour the medium, and enjoy the process. I want you to see the mark-making—the raw, expressive strokes that emerge as I respond to what I see and feel. The portrait develops gradually, shaped by ink, gesture, and attention.

There’s something magical about starting with a blank space and letting the story unfold. Each piece becomes a quiet collaboration between the koala’s lived experience and the materials they’ve left behind. I hope this process draws you in, sparks curiosity, and invites you to learn more—not just about the art, but about the koalas themselves.