A bold move to Byeni
How two humans, one poodle and a rooster named Billy Idol landed sunny side up in a mudbrick house born from the sands on which it stands 30km north of Glen Innes.
When I first received an email from photographer Jim A. Barker, I jumped to multiple inaccurate conclusions. He mentioned a recent career change from publicist to photographer, a move from Sydney to Glen Innes and chatted about filling his days by taking portraits of New England artisans.
“Let’s have a coffee.”
Sure, I agreed, expecting to meet one of three people.
A recent retiree who’s taken up photography after a career in the city.
A man returning to his regional roots with a young family, camera on hand to capture happy new memories made.
A treechanger here to work the land, but who digs photography on the side.
As it turned out, I met someone else entirely.
Fast forward to the cafe, where I was greeted by six-foot-something of the kind of cool you’re born with. You can’t learn that shit. Think double denim, jacket arms adorned in vintage patches and enamel pins, nose ring, shoulder-length hair smashing out a messy man bun like there’s no tomorrow, with a poodle called Joe by his side.
This was not the semi-retired bird watcher I’d imagined. And I had questions.
“Who are you Jim, and how and why are you here?”
A new beginning
A couple of hours and several coffees later, I’d learnt that Jim, his wife Jamie-Lee Garner and their beloved pooch Joe had made the leap from city to regional on the first day of spring 2020. It was a new beginning, one like none other they’d ever known.
I met Jamie at a later date – but this time I was more prepared for the divine human before me. An exceptionally talented artist and designer draped in that same ‘born-with-it’ coolness and tattoos so delicate I can only imagine they were painted on by pixies. Even Joe the poodle rocks a bandana like it’s going out of fashion.
The trio, who Jim affectionately refers to as Triple J, had zero connections with Glen Innes – “but we liked the fact it was cold, had a second-hand bookshop and decent coffee,” says Jamie. “As long as there’s a bookshop, there’s something for me to grasp onto, something I know.”
It was also conveniently halfway between their families in Sydney and the Sunshine Coast and offered them a chance to live the off-grid, creatively-driven lifestyle they’d been slowly edging towards from city apartments the size of shoeboxes.
“We’d been property hunting for a while and had two key criteria, to have a view of the horizon and to not be able to see our neighbours – now that’s obviously not going to happen in Sydney,” laughs Jim. “So we looked further afield.”
They looked south, they looked west, they did all the things property hunters do best. But it was on an accidental detour from Broken Hill that the pair stumbled across Glen Innes – with the road south closed due to rainfall, they headed north and just kept going.
“We don’t mind the odd drive,” adds Jim, which is lucky – given their new home is the kind of distance from town where takeaway needs to be reheated by the time you reach the front door. But when you see the mudbrick property Jim and Jamie now call home, you know that’s a small sacrifice to make.
Named Byeni, which in the local tongue means ‘to continue on’, it’s the kind of space that catches you mid-breath, draws you in, twirls you around and nudges you ever so gently towards the 100 acres of timbered land beyond.
Pause. Breathe. Look up.
The sky out here is so entirely different to the one you get in the city. It’s bigger, brighter – braver.
No neighbours looking over you here.
“We knew it was special as soon as we came down the drive – a dusty dirt track bathed in a golden blanket of wattle,” says Jamie. “Then you step foot inside and you’re lost for words.”
I can see why, but I’ll give it a go.
The three-bedroom home is Hobbiton magnified. Just swap lush rolling hillsides for the great Australian bush and replace perfectly-formed bricks for those made from mud, lovingly formed using sand from the property’s dam. Next, make it bigger, wider, bolder. The space is tall and sparse, tied together with wooden beams happily adorned with Jim’s indoor plant collection – turns out he’s quite the green thumb. In a corner sits his desk, photography equipment and computer. To the left is Jamie’s art space bursting with floor-to-ceiling canvases and a drink cart turned painter’s palette on wheels. An eclectic mix of artworks and photographs, books, ceramics and nostalgic memorabilia line the walls. A wood fire burns bright in the heart of the room – adding warmth to this beautiful, bohemian space. Outside, a menagerie of chooks is kept in line by a rooster called Billy Idol.
Artists live here. Brave ones. The kind who have joined the Rural Fire Service to support the community and learn how to defend Byeni should fire roll through the land. The kind who have taught themselves how to make mudbricks from the dam’s sand – so the chicken coop and granny flat they’re restoring match the main house. The kind who moved here with the intention of becoming self-sufficient so installed a whole new solar system, two new water tanks and have dreams of building vegetable gardens big enough to feed an artist’s residency.
“That’s the goal, to invite fellow artists to stay in the granny flat next door, take what they want from the garden to cook their meals and enjoy the freedom out here,” says Jamie. “We want to create an artists’ retreat, not only for ourselves, but for others like us.”
Escaping the cityscape
It’s a far cry from the life they led in Sydney, where the extent of Jim’s gardening was a tomato plant sat beside a single sunflower on a Surry Hills balcony. Today, he tends to 230 plants on a daily basis.
But they haven’t left their city lives behind them entirely. Both Jim and Jamie continue to work remotely part-time in their Sydney-based roles as a publicist and designer. It’s a blessing off the back of COVID-19, and one that enables them to pursue this creatively-fuelled existence.
“We’d been trying to disengage from city life for a while before the move,” says Jim. “We’d shifted out to the ‘burbs and were growing organic vegetables in a farm plot in South West Sydney. But to get there you had to drive through these new developments, my dad calls them modern slums.”
He goes on to describe gutters butting up against gutters, grass replaced by artificial turf and rows of neighbours who knew nothing about each other.
“They’re like hot bubbles where you just have to stay inside,” adds Jamie. “You might not need a lawnmower anymore, but your kids can’t play on the grass because it burns the soles of their feet and there’s no shade because you’ve cut down all the trees. All of that is what we’ve been pulling away from for a long time – not only with growing our own produce, but how we choose to spend our time, too.”
It’s true, seeing someone paint a self-portrait while the other whittles a wooden sculpture isn’t what you’d expect to find in a typical ‘burbs backyard. But despite their best efforts to push suburban boundaries, they felt hemmed in – both physically and creatively. Ironically, a growing sense of isolation crept ever closer too, even while living in a densely-populated urban street.
“We needed to leap – I was burning out in my agency role but didn’t realise it,” says Jim. “After meeting Jamie and being exposed to her creativity, I was encouraged to do it myself. So I picked up a camera and started making photos.”
Photography quickly became Jim’s antidote to getting through the burnout. Gradually, he realised this was how he wanted to spend his time – creating art, connecting to the land and becoming less reliant on the outside world. As for Jamie, she was sold on a country move the second her city employer said: “Sure, you can work from home”.
But that’s not to say it’s been easy.
“We took big, intentional steps to get here, and living this life isn’t without its challenges.”
“Motivation is key,” adds Jim. “You’ve got to really want it. While we’re still supporting ourselves with our part-time city incomes, it’s given us the time and space to push ourselves in our craft every moment we get.
“You’ve also got to make the time to learn about pumps – moving to the country seems to involve a lot about water pumps. I fixed one the other day and thought to myself, ‘yes, I’ve gone full country now’.”
Wild and free
Motivation, the magic of technology and family support have combined to create this pair’s sweet, creative life. While nailing the data diet was a stumbling block and video calls are a no-go when it rains, what they’ve gained is the stuff artistic dreams are made of.
While the hustle still bustles beneath the surface as they forge new connections with galleries and businesses seeking a sharp photographer’s eye, dedicate time to their art and renovate their ever-evolving mudbrick space – life here is more fluid, free-flowing and fun.
“People are all too geared towards earning money and sacrifice their time – our only real commodity – in exchange for more of it. As long as we can buy paints and plants we’re in a good place,” says Jim. “Life out here is sweeter, the connections we’ve made are more fulfilling and we’re learning more about ourselves and the land around us every day.”
“We love the landscape we’re in,” adds Jamie. “It makes us feel like a part of Australia and is a constant source of inspiration. It gives us freedom. So, in return, we work to take care of it and, one day soon, share it with others.”
Until that day, when artists and creatives alike gather among the gums for a slice of the good life, I leave Triple J to go about their day wrapped up in the trees, windswept grasses and wild freedom that comes with life at Byeni.
PS – Thanks for the email Jim, I owe you a coffee.
Art uncovered
You can discover more about Jim and Jamie’s art, photography and background online – enjoy every second.
