Growing up on Country

Growing up on Country reflects the artist’s life growing up as a young child in Yarrabah, connected to Country and the ocean. It depicts the lifestyle shared with her parents and siblings. The stories portrayed in the artworks draw on memories of life by the beach, living in a tin humpy, and embracing a relaxed way of life that has become a significant source of inspiration for many of the artist’s works. The people, places, and experiences that surrounded them have become an integral part of the stories expressed through her art.

“Yarrabah is the home of the Gungganji people who are my people. Living and growing in Yarrabah and on the beach gave me the opportunity to live and learn about the ocean and the rainforest. Learning how to fish and gather seafood. My artworks over the years – especially now – tell my story, and gives insight into how I grew up and the values that I live by. Bright colours in my works represent the happiness experienced as a child who loved fishing, the sun, sand and the sea.” – Elverina Johnson

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Growing Up On Country

‘Growing up on country means so much more than just living on country. It is more than just a dwelling place. It’s the essence of where you learn how to be who you are. Growing up on Country is about presence, doing and knowing on country.

From the crash of the waves when the tides are coming in, to the silence of its gentle flow as it leaves the shores of the beach near the campsite. The smell of the smoke as the fish, mussels and mud crabs are being cooked on the open campfire. The sound of the rain as it hits the tin roof of the camp while we keep warm by the fire and protected from the cool breezy wind.

It’s the sounds, the smells and noises of camping and country all at the same time. Hearing the click and the claps of the muscles in the mangroves close by reminding me of the stories told by my old uncle to keep a close watch when you hear certain sounds that tell us about dangers nearby.

Hearing the sizzle of mum’s golden fried scones cooking in the old, battered frying pan over the orange fire and the sound of the small sticks being broken to add to the fire. It’s the taste of the seafood, oysters, julkai and wiral crammed onto the ashes cooked damper that mum made. These are the foods that I ate every day that mum would prepare for my morning tea and lunch as I walk to and from school just only a short walk away from the campsite.

In the evenings we would begin to hear the night creatures, the crickets, the fluttering of the flying foxes and ever more loudly, was the sound of the incoming tide and the crackling of the fire burning throughout the night, as we would huddle around in its warmth. Even it the darkest part of the night, we still had light from the moon and the stars and the ‘minjil’ (sparks from the fire).

In the early morning when the tide was high and the orange of the sunrise began to break through the skies; I would wake up to chuck the line out for the morning catch of fish or check the net that was set the day before.

And so it begins, another day on country where daytime was also playtime on the natural playground of country. The shells, the leaves, the broken branches and sticks. The salty mud and rough beach sands, the discarded corrugated tin roofing all became my toys of the day. Building and creating what I could. The joys, the laughter the excitement of family and friends around. This was not just about living on country for me. This was me ‘Growing Up on Country’

– Elverina Johnson

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