A match is in the foreground. It's just been lit, and has blazed up dramatically. Behind it is darkness. Dramatic darkness. Above it is darkness. Dramatic darkness. Next to it is darkness. Have a guess what kind.

Apart from the lit match, the entire woodblock features darkness.

...

The artist comments:

What I find intriguing about this particular woodblock is how much it leaves unsaid. The eloquence of silence, man. There's so much eloquent silence going on here that I feel like walking down Brunswick Street with a megaphone, yelling at people.

Has the match been struck to smoke a cigarette? To light a candle? To perform a scientific experiment? To light an oven? To melt wax over a performance artist?

The real beauty of the idea is that ... we'll never know.

And to be honest, I don't even know.

But, as an artist, my role is to find ways to express that delicate, poignant, dramatic state-of-not-knowing. That, to me, is the essence of Fitzroy.