10th May, Art Camp at Bell- We had a mixed group of participants, 5 young people between the age of 12-15, and a couple of extra adults join in. In the end we had a group of 12.
We arrived at Art Camp and were welcomed through the smoke by Uncle Chris, before settling around the fire in conversation. I was a gentle yarning that unfolded stories, questions, observations.
Uncle Chris invited us to paint the trees with ochre that he had collected. We then walked from art camp through the top of the old mine site. This area was where coal would have been stored before being loaded on to trains.
There is an old tailings dam, the cut form where I think there was a railway line, the land has been roughly ‘regenerated’. The disruption is obvious, bare soil and weeds, chunks of coal, some plantings attempting to become an ecosystem.
We headed out to a point that looks directly into the valleys, gorges and canyons that cradle the headwaters of Bulgamatta, before winding through the closed colliery and into the valley. Anyone who looks into this valley will feel awe.
Sandstone escarpment glows gold and orange, with vast hills of forest winding into the depths below. The curved forms of Mt Banks, Mt Tomah, Mt Hay and others rest like old folk holding space. There is a bigness, a wideness, a wildness, that gives you a sense of your own place in things, a small part of the land.
From here we headed back to fire. Words and melodies forming, being gently carried, ready for tending into song! Just before we began to share our ideas, a story emerged from Uncle Chris. The story was of a singer who had the most enchanting voice, who sang the most beautiful songs. While those who lived with her, enjoyed her songs, they perhaps felt that she didn’t pull her weight in the finding of food, caring of others, making of camp. The Great Sky God however, loved her songs and asked the people to let her be. That this work that she did, pleased him. At the end of the story, she is connected to the wattle tree. Golden giver of pollen and brightness, across the year.
Now seated at the fire, Sarah Humphrys, with all of her warmth and welcome, encouraged up to share words and images that we have collected throughout the morning. She told us, don’t overthink things and try to be clever. The songs exist either in your feeling or your noticing, and they can be more beautiful when they allowed to simply come to you. The first line emerged, Bring it to the fire. Uncle had told us, that when there was trouble or conflict, healing to be done, the old way was to bring it to the fire. To gather and work it out. From here the rest of the song wove in words including a cameo from Waagan (the crow), who had been keeping an eye on us all morning.
We didn’t have enough time to write a whole song, but a chorus emerged and we sang it on Country, to Country, together by the fire.
“Bring it to the fire,
Give it to the creek,
Let go of the hurt,
Hear Country speak.
The wind will lift our words,
Waagan watches from above,
No one is alone
And we paint the trees with love.”
With these workshops and events on Country for Bulgamatta, we are drawing this place deeper into the imagination. Deeper into the heart. Working for healing, working together. It felt in this moment, that healing Bulgamatta was not only a possibility. It was already started and just waiting for the attention and hands of those who were ready. We left Art Camp, with smoke in our hair, ochre on our faces, a song on our lips and hearts threaded with connection to Bulgamatta.
We will continue this next term!
Warmly,
