14 August 2025
Can you tell us about your bloodlines—what mobs and lands you’re connected to, where you’re currently based, and how those places and people have shaped you, both personally and artistically?
I am a descendant of Minyangbal Bundjalung, Western Gugu Yalanji and South Sea Island people.
I belong to the Tweed River people, home of the echidna and dingo. I have been living on Gumbaynggirr Country for the last few years, and this land has been such a place of peace, abundance and the community is an inspiring example of cultural resistance and resilience.
I think it was inevitable that I would become an artist coming from a creative family, and having a cultural grounding informs every part of me.
When did you first realise that creating art was something you were deeply called to, and what made you decide to really lean into it as a full-time practice?
I began creating in my late teens / early twenties and when I started learning more about my culture, ancestral homelands I felt I was called to it. While living in Meanjin, I joined arts collective CTRL+ALT+DEL, that held multi-disciplinary exhibitions from 2018 – 2023. We built a culture around supporting and giving a platform to emerging Indigenous, and Artists of Colour. In a time of my life where I was learning that my ancestors, no matter where they belonged, shared our knowledge systems through complex songs, dance, poetry, stories, painting and land art, I felt guided towards this new career.
Your work spans weaving, sand painting, soundscapes, DJing, dance and more, how do you decide what medium a particular idea or story calls for?
Although I’m currently focusing on fibers at the moment, I am guided by Country, what the current season is and what is available. I’m always playing and experimenting with ideas, letting the work create itself and allowing other mediums to inspire my practice.
Your practice is deeply rooted in the preservation of Indigenous arts in a contemporary colonial context, how do you navigate the balance between honouring cultural knowledge and working within the structures of the contemporary art world?
It’s a delicate way of creating when having to “fit in” to appease the contemporary art world.
We are still in the early stages of seeing representation of Indigenous artistry on a local and global scale.
What I find the most interesting pursuit of the arts industry is the reality that, with all this current “exposure” to the institutions, our work, our stories and our personhood is still being viewed and defined by white and western frameworks. Particularly for Indigenous peoples from so-called NSW being the first impacted by colonialism, there is little acknowledgement or respect for our existence and our connection to our homelands, stories and culture. What I want to protect and share are the practices of east coast Indigenous artistry and culture that have been obscured by the veil of white-washed histories and questions of what “real Indigenous art” is. I want to preserve the unique practices of my Ancestors.
How do you balance your sense of cultural responsibility with experimentation and creative freedom in your work?
Like I mentioned, I’m always experimenting. I think it’s in my DNA to observe, play and study ways of being and expressing. Cultural responsibility and creative freedom are not mutually exclusive, I believe the intelligence of Indigenous ways of being are rooted in observing and responding to Country and community.
In 2023 you received Create NSW Arts and Cultural funding, how did that support shape or strengthen your practice?
This was actually an unbelievable achievement for me. Not only was this the first ever grant I applied for, but I received the news of my successful grant during a time of deep grief for the loss of my father. I had already begun developing and creating the collection of works before my father passed but this news snapped me out of such a deep grief and brought me to a new place of creation and transformation. I was also able to give the opportunity to 6 Indigenous performers to be a part of the exhibition opening night. This was major for me to be able to show representation of these performers from different Countries, languages and creative practices. It was an iconic moment for me.
On the 16th of August your next solo exhibition Numbuh is opening in Byron. What can audiences expect? What conversations are you hoping to spark with this show?
This next iteration of Numbuh has been slow work of experimenting with concepts and adapting to speak on endangered and endemic plants and animals on Bundjalung Country.
The sole reason for this collection is to highlight what Country is trying to tell us. I want to inspire conversations of self-identity and what that means for those living outside of their ancestral lands, how this affects the lands you live on, what is happening in our backyards and to our neighbours
There needs to be a higher level of individual responsibility to protect this land, water and protect our cultural people, language and practices.
Is there a particular piece in the exhibition that you’re especially drawn to, or that holds a special story for you?
Each piece tells a different story, but I’m definitely drawn to the paperbark masks I’ve been creating. I have been learning about global Indigenous people and their mask making traditions and the conceptualization that leads to masked performance. I find the idea of masking is so relevant to the way we currently live in this westernized world and I want to dive deeper into the subject.
What else is brewing for you at the moment? Any new ideas, collaborations or upcoming work you’d like to share?
I’m working towards to new wearable art collection that will be open for anyone to purchase and wear. As the original Numbuh collection was only created for Mob, I learnt that when I shared the collection, all of my non-Indigenous friends who are performers were so eager to buy certain pieces that I had to start developing ideas for this next collection. It will be the same principles but it will be more collaborative and influenced by their culture and mine, a meeting of our ancestors.
