August 2025

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Yeah the girls

I wanted the colours of this painting to be full of magic and femininity. Circles of women, laughter spilling into the air like music. The table is loaded. There’s bickies and dips, Jatz cake and cream, platters of fruit. Cups full in more ways than one. The goss flows like tea. Big witchy cackles that echo across the land, healing us in ways no doctor ever could. Sharing stories about who “got sick n died”, “remember when?” and “he better look out next time I see him” By nights end, we’re sprawled out on couches, bloated like poisoned pups and our spirits brighter than ever. This piece: is a celebration of us, our women, our mothers, grandmothers, sisters – our strength, our stories, our love. “yeah the girls,” we say, raising our cups of tea in a cheeky toast.

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Yeah the girls

I wanted the colours of this painting to be full of magic and femininity. Circles of women, laughter spilling into the air like music. The table is loaded. There’s bickies and dips, Jatz cake and cream, platters of fruit. Cups full in more ways than one. The goss flows like tea. Big witchy cackles that echo across the land, healing us in ways no doctor ever could. Sharing stories about who “got sick n died”, “remember when?” and “he better look out next time I see him” By nights end, we’re sprawled out on couches, bloated like poisoned pups and our spirits brighter than ever. This piece: is a celebration of us, our women, our mothers, grandmothers, sisters – our strength, our stories, our love. “yeah the girls,” we say, raising our cups of tea in a cheeky toast.

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Yeah the girls

I wanted the colours of this painting to be full of magic and femininity. Circles of women, laughter spilling into the air like music. The table is loaded. There’s bickies and dips, Jatz cake and cream, platters of fruit. Cups full in more ways than one. The goss flows like tea. Big witchy cackles that echo across the land, healing us in ways no doctor ever could. Sharing stories about who “got sick n died”, “remember when?” and “he better look out next time I see him” By nights end, we’re sprawled out on couches, bloated like poisoned pups and our spirits brighter than ever. This piece: is a celebration of us, our women, our mothers, grandmothers, sisters – our strength, our stories, our love. “yeah the girls,” we say, raising our cups of tea in a cheeky toast.

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Yeah the girls

I wanted the colours of this painting to be full of magic and femininity. Circles of women, laughter spilling into the air like music. The table is loaded. There’s bickies and dips, Jatz cake and cream, platters of fruit. Cups full in more ways than one. The goss flows like tea. Big witchy cackles that echo across the land, healing us in ways no doctor ever could. Sharing stories about who “got sick n died”, “remember when?” and “he better look out next time I see him” By nights end, we’re sprawled out on couches, bloated like poisoned pups and our spirits brighter than ever. This piece: is a celebration of us, our women, our mothers, grandmothers, sisters – our strength, our stories, our love. “yeah the girls,” we say, raising our cups of tea in a cheeky toast.

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Yeah the girls

I wanted the colours of this painting to be full of magic and femininity. Circles of women, laughter spilling into the air like music. The table is loaded. There’s bickies and dips, Jatz cake and cream, platters of fruit. Cups full in more ways than one. The goss flows like tea. Big witchy cackles that echo across the land, healing us in ways no doctor ever could. Sharing stories about who “got sick n died”, “remember when?” and “he better look out next time I see him” By nights end, we’re sprawled out on couches, bloated like poisoned pups and our spirits brighter than ever. This piece: is a celebration of us, our women, our mothers, grandmothers, sisters – our strength, our stories, our love. “yeah the girls,” we say, raising our cups of tea in a cheeky toast.

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Yeah the girls

I wanted the colours of this painting to be full of magic and femininity. Circles of women, laughter spilling into the air like music. The table is loaded. There’s bickies and dips, Jatz cake and cream, platters of fruit. Cups full in more ways than one. The goss flows like tea. Big witchy cackles that echo across the land, healing us in ways no doctor ever could. Sharing stories about who “got sick n died”, “remember when?” and “he better look out next time I see him” By nights end, we’re sprawled out on couches, bloated like poisoned pups and our spirits brighter than ever. This piece: is a celebration of us, our women, our mothers, grandmothers, sisters – our strength, our stories, our love. “yeah the girls,” we say, raising our cups of tea in a cheeky toast.

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Yeah the girls

I wanted the colours of this painting to be full of magic and femininity. Circles of women, laughter spilling into the air like music. The table is loaded. There’s bickies and dips, Jatz cake and cream, platters of fruit. Cups full in more ways than one. The goss flows like tea. Big witchy cackles that echo across the land, healing us in ways no doctor ever could. Sharing stories about who “got sick n died”, “remember when?” and “he better look out next time I see him” By nights end, we’re sprawled out on couches, bloated like poisoned pups and our spirits brighter than ever. This piece: is a celebration of us, our women, our mothers, grandmothers, sisters – our strength, our stories, our love. “yeah the girls,” we say, raising our cups of tea in a cheeky toast.

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Yeah the girls

I wanted the colours of this painting to be full of magic and femininity. Circles of women, laughter spilling into the air like music. The table is loaded. There’s bickies and dips, Jatz cake and cream, platters of fruit. Cups full in more ways than one. The goss flows like tea. Big witchy cackles that echo across the land, healing us in ways no doctor ever could. Sharing stories about who “got sick n died”, “remember when?” and “he better look out next time I see him” By nights end, we’re sprawled out on couches, bloated like poisoned pups and our spirits brighter than ever. This piece: is a celebration of us, our women, our mothers, grandmothers, sisters – our strength, our stories, our love. “yeah the girls,” we say, raising our cups of tea in a cheeky toast.

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Ngadhu Yanhagu Nguranggu (I’m going home)

In this work, I’ve painted my story – a journey of returning, of coming home. The big white shape in the middle, that’s the meeting place. That’s me, finally back with my family, with my people. It’s where I belong. The white lines that stretch out from that centre are the biggest things that pushed me to make the decision to come back home – love, longing, pain, growth, all of it. Every line holds a moment, a feeling, a reason. They’re the paths that brought me back to where my spirit feels right. Around the centre are the ripples of my life away from home – all the choices, struggles, and growth that shaped me. I found a lot of joy out there too – made memories I’ll always carry and met friends who’ll always have a piece of my heart. But I’ve also carried trauma. I’ve been through pain that still hurts and always will. Those hard times changed me. This painting is about healing, identity, and learning to live with it all – the good and the bad. Sometimes you have to leave to understand where you belong. I’ve grown a lot in my time away, and now I’m learning to accept the the person I’ve become. I’m still learning, still healing – but now, I’m home

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Ngadhu Yanhagu Nguranggu (I’m going home)

In this work, I’ve painted my story – a journey of returning, of coming home. The big white shape in the middle, that’s the meeting place. That’s me, finally back with my family, with my people. It’s where I belong. The white lines that stretch out from that centre are the biggest things that pushed me to make the decision to come back home – love, longing, pain, growth, all of it. Every line holds a moment, a feeling, a reason. They’re the paths that brought me back to where my spirit feels right. Around the centre are the ripples of my life away from home – all the choices, struggles, and growth that shaped me. I found a lot of joy out there too – made memories I’ll always carry and met friends who’ll always have a piece of my heart. But I’ve also carried trauma. I’ve been through pain that still hurts and always will. Those hard times changed me. This painting is about healing, identity, and learning to live with it all – the good and the bad. Sometimes you have to leave to understand where you belong. I’ve grown a lot in my time away, and now I’m learning to accept the the person I’ve become. I’m still learning, still healing – but now, I’m home