The Tree. Nightcliff Foreshore Painting project

Plunging head first from the railings into the sea. I found this to be a tonic for many ills. 'Diver' Acrylic on wood 10x10 cm

The Story of those living in the mangroves is all about relationships. The network of resources and support that provide a saftey net. The specific areas that each group uses are well understood and the boundries observed.
Acrylic on canvas 40x90 CM

Sitting in the same place at the same time every day and painting always unearths more that is anticipated.

I sat under a tree on the edge of the sand overlooking the beach and mouth of Rapid Creek.
I was joined by the people who camped in the area and as at Mijijimaya I shared my materials with them and asked them to paint their story.

As I was working through the week this was a series of weekend mornings. Starting at dawn.

watercolour on ricepaper 5x8 cm 1992

I was listening to shortwave radio. BBC world was playing Neville Shutes' 'On the Beach'. Everyone gets it in the end. It was hot and still.
Every few weeks there is a new thing available to eat. These are a grub that is inside a hard woody case that the tree grows around it.
Tied up with wire, tobacco tin wheels and internal elements of a radio. These 'tin cars' were a whole lot of fun to play with.

I looked after the goggle like eyewear for the Old Man. In the mornings the young men brought him up to sit with me and paint. He crouched over the small perfect little images. His goggles nearly touching the surface. When his head was 'banging' he stopped for a cup of tea.The Plains Bustard, or bush turkey, were wary and difficult to get close to. For good reason as they are very good to eat. Only the feet and feathers remained after people and camp dogs had their pickings.


'I am calling you'. I did this while staying with a friend in South Hedland. He had a frangipanni that shed white flowers generously. The rich green leaves and fleshy white flowers were alwyas there by the open door to welcome me.
An old bone found at the bottom of a dried well. A kangaroo must have fallen and become trapped long ago.
A collage of a band aid and watercolour. I was thinking of wounds that are raw but hidden.
'And with the night small insects count out the moments of the velvet black between the staring lights that wheel over and into dawn.' The kids played this bat to death and I painted it as its wings shrivelled in the heat.
A collage of the red desert sand, a fishhook and a dried flower. I had found the fish among many that had died when their river was cut from the sea and as the water evaporated and became more and more salty they lay twitching feebly in the shallows. The crows pecked out livers and eyes as they died.
Yalalu looked over us. In the absolute stillness of dry season nights the echo from clapping hands came ringing back across the spinnifex.
'The Forbidden Hills'; This book was sent to me from Nepal. I set myself the challenge of doing one painting a day in it. These hills are the site of a waterhole that only initiated men could go to.

Felt tip pen on paper. TheOld Man. 1992

I made this page just after he died in the accident.
It is a carve peral shell around the neck. These were imbued with Law. The figure is in the shade. Waiting. Elements of this image are evident in the boys' painting.
It is a stone axe. I think this is cutting saplings for spears.
This is dogs chasing a kangaroo across the river. The influence on Peter Woodman is obvious.This is a place called (in dominant culture speak) Kitty Gap. About 200 Km east of Marble Bar on the Telfer Road.
He would be brought up to me from camp by the older boys in the morning and sat while I anxiously grappled with creating worthy and fashionable images.
I began by providing the colour. He was very clear about what tone went where.
I think the people above are cutting the tree for honey.
Whenever I was around and honey was found I noticed that an older person would intervene to prevent the bush bee's home being totally destroyed. It was carefully repaired and left for next time.

I asked what the bird meant and he wouldn't' tell me. I've found myself repeating this motif. The hunter is behind the sand hill, watching for something.
He drew this crouched over the page wearing goggle like magnifying lenses. (i did a painting of this. When I find it I will post it)
An optometrist came out on a plane one day and when I asked about the Old Mans' eyes he said that every thing that could be done had been done; he was blind and the fact he could still draw defied the facts.
The biggest challenge to my middle class art graduate sensibilities was that there was never any intention to exchange this artwork for money.
These images were done with relentless intensity to contribute to the maintenance of the Law; the songs stories and understanding that were (and continue to be) suffocated into oblivion by the dominant culture (us).

Felt tip pen on paper. TheOld Man. 1992

I made this page just after he died in the accident.
It is a carve peral shell around the neck. These were imbued with Law. The figure is in the shade. Waiting. Elements of this image are evident in the boys' painting.
It is a stone axe. I think this is cutting saplings for spears.
This is dogs chasing a kangaroo across the river. The influence on Peter Woodman is obvious.This is a place called (in dominant culture speak) Kitty Gap. About 200 Km east of Marble Bar on the Telfer Road.
He would be brought up to me from camp by the older boys in the morning and sat while I anxiously grappled with creating worthy and fashionable images.
I began by providing the colour. He was very clear about what tone went where.
I think the people above are cutting the tree for honey.
Whenever I was around and honey was found I noticed that an older person would intervene to prevent the bush bee's home being totally destroyed. It was carefully repaired and left for next time.

I asked what the bird meant and he wouldn't' tell me. I've found myself repeating this motif. The hunter is behind the sand hill, watching for something.
He drew this crouched over the page wearing goggle like magnifying lenses. (i did a painting of this. When I find it I will post it)
An optometrist came out on a plane one day and when I asked about the Old Mans' eyes he said that every thing that could be done had been done; he was blind and the fact he could still draw defied the facts.
The biggest challenge to my middle class art graduate sensibilities was that there was never any intention to exchange this artwork for money.
These images were done with relentless intensity to contribute to the maintenance of the Law; the songs stories and understanding that were (and continue to be) suffocated into oblivion by the dominant culture (us).