When I was a little girl I would go and collect the seed from the altywart grass with my grandmothers. They would teach us how to hang on to the tree and grind the seeds with our feet. We would carry the seed in our coolamon back to the camp, then make damper, cook it on the fire and eat with our families.
When I go hunting for aker arlkerl (echidna) around the sandhills of Ampilatwatja I always spot the wild flowers and honey flowers. We tap the Bankias against our hand and get the honey, it is sweet to taste.
After the rain and bushfires all the new flowers pop up around me. My favourite time of the year is winter when it is cooler to walk and hunt.
The community of Ampilatwatja made a conscious decision not to paint altyerr (dreaming stories). The artists paint their country where those stories sit.
Edie depicts Antarrengeny when there has been no rain and the land shimmers like jewels. It is the open flat country, after a bushfire, when only the young grasses and the trees are growing and where there is good hunting.”
Antarrengeny is Edie’s country and also her Father’s.
Edie has a strong connection to Antarrengeny. She gave birth to two of her daughters out bush on this land. It is her country and she loves it dearly.
These bush flowers grow seasonly in Alyawarr country, some of which are also used in bush medicine remedies.
When I go out hunting, I like to see all the bush flowers that are flowering and then when I come back, I paint them.
The artists of Ampilatwatja made a conscious decision not to paint altyerr (dreaming stories). The artists paint their country where those stories sit.
Kwetyaylp (donkeys) and nantew (horses) would come and drink from the water at Spring Creek on my father’s country. We would put a bucket in the sand we would filter the water so we could drink it.
When I was young girl we would go to Canteen Creek following the track along the hills, we would hunt turkey, emus and kangaroo and we would cut the bark and collect the sap from the sugar bag trees. `
I paint the country of my Father and Mother and where they grew up, near Barrow Creek.
This is the painting of my Father’s country, where I grew up. When we would go hunting, we always climbed those hills. We would take the kids hunting too and take photos of the hills.
I use bright colours and beautiful attention to detail expresses the love and joy that I have for the country closest to my heart.
The community of Ampilatwatja made a conscious decision not to paint altyerr (dreaming stories). The artists paint their country where those stories sit.
This artwork depicts the Ngalkodjek Yawkyawk of Barrihdjowkkeng country.
“This story is very old. That old man [my father Crusoe Kuningbal] when he was alive, told that story to me, to all of us. He told us about the yawkyawk (mermaid) spirit women called Ngalkodjek who lives in the billabong on my country. He told us how they call out loudly, how they call out as they walk along.
That is what they do, calling out. They walked around eating bush foods like those little bush yams. They would pound the yams into a pulp and eat them. That is their traditional food which they eat.
When they walk down from the bush, they follow a set path that belongs to them and they walk along calling out. That is their path which they take. It is an old traditional route.
They placed a woman’s breast into the country. That rock was not there originally, but it was a woman’s breast. It is the breast of those women.
They put that djang [sacred place] there, and then at the time when non-Aboriginal people arrived in the region, then the breast turned to stone. Now it has turned solid into rock.”
– Owen Yalandja
‘Bawáliba is the djang (Dreaming) of my mother and my uncles. They are good spirits, they protect us and they recognise families. They are really tall – just like human beings, like us. They dance late at night and have a lot of hair.
In olden times, long long long time ago Bawáliba were here, before people were on the land. Bawáliba used to go out hunting and care for country. They hunt carrying fish traps and digging sticks, near the homeland Djinkarr. They go out hunting on the floodplains with dilly bags and digging sticks. They collect a lot of bush foods, and sleep together with one bark shelter.
Sometimes now they still come alive when we sleep, they might come to our houses and peep through the window. At night, they cover themselves with white clay and red cloth tied around their waist. If we hear them, we jump out of bed and get up to look -but they have disappeared, they’re just too quick. Bawáliba might knock on the window to remind us they are there looking out for us.If you listen deeply you can hear them whisper, sometimes they talk about us and might say, ‘why are those people making camp here?’ then they realise ‘Oh they are family from here, it’s ok, they are just sleeping here for the night’.
During the day they always turn into stone and they sleep. We still know that green rock covered in moss near Djinkarr, that’s Bawáliba sleeping.
Some of my ancestors used to speak the same language as the Bawaliba, but all those old people are passed away now. It’s a little bit sad for us, because no one now can speak that Bawaliba language anymore.’ Lucy Yarawanga 2019
‘Bawáliba is the djang (Dreaming) of my mother and my uncles. They are good spirits, they protect us and they recognise families. They are really tall – just like human beings, like us. They dance late at night and have a lot of hair.
In olden times, long long long time ago Bawáliba were here, before people were on the land. Bawáliba used to go out hunting and care for country. They hunt carrying fish traps and digging sticks, near the homeland Djinkarr. They go out hunting on the floodplains with dilly bags and digging sticks. They collect a lot of bush foods, and sleep together with one bark shelter.
Sometimes now they still come alive when we sleep, they might come to our houses and peep through the window. At night, they cover themselves with white clay and red cloth tied around their waist. If we hear them, we jump out of bed and get up to look -but they have disappeared, they’re just too quick. Bawáliba might knock on the window to remind us they are there looking out for us.If you listen deeply you can hear them whisper, sometimes they talk about us and might say, ‘why are those people making camp here?’ then they realise ‘Oh they are family from here, it’s ok, they are just sleeping here for the night’.
During the day they always turn into stone and they sleep. We still know that green rock covered in moss near Djinkarr, that’s Bawáliba sleeping.
Some of my ancestors used to speak the same language as the Bawaliba, but all those old people are passed away now. It’s a little bit sad for us, because no one now can speak that Bawaliba language anymore.’ Lucy Yarawanga 2019
‘Bawáliba is the djang (Dreaming) of my mother and my uncles. They are good spirits, they protect us and they recognise families. They are really tall – just like human beings, like us. They dance late at night and have a lot of hair.
In olden times, long long long time ago Bawáliba were here, before people were on the land. Bawáliba used to go out hunting and care for country. They hunt carrying fish traps and digging sticks, near the homeland Djinkarr. They go out hunting on the floodplains with dilly bags and digging sticks. They collect a lot of bush foods, and sleep together with one bark shelter.
Sometimes now they still come alive when we sleep, they might come to our houses and peep through the window. At night, they cover themselves with white clay and red cloth tied around their waist. If we hear them, we jump out of bed and get up to look -but they have disappeared, they’re just too quick. Bawáliba might knock on the window to remind us they are there looking out for us.If you listen deeply you can hear them whisper, sometimes they talk about us and might say, ‘why are those people making camp here?’ then they realise ‘Oh they are family from here, it’s ok, they are just sleeping here for the night’.
During the day they always turn into stone and they sleep. We still know that green rock covered in moss near Djinkarr, that’s Bawáliba sleeping.
Some of my ancestors used to speak the same language as the Bawaliba, but all those old people are passed away now. It’s a little bit sad for us, because no one now can speak that Bawaliba language anymore.’ Lucy Yarawanga 2019