My name from the bush days is Budubarri. I was born in the desert at Gorrlmarlyi. Walmajarri is my first language. Talking with English came later when I started work on stations (ranches).

Blokes like me are not too sure of the year that we were born. Those days we didn’t worry about birthdays. The Japanese War (WW2) finished when I was droving cattle to the Broome meatworks.

When I was a boy, my family lived with spears and hunting sticks. My father killed kangaroo, dingo, pussycat and possum; all good tucker (food). In those days we had plenty of tucker in the desert. Today something is wrong, not much tucker there now.

The first time I met whitefellas was when my family got caught killing bullocks and sheep with a spear. The policemen were on horses. They put the adults on a chain, and we kids had to follow along behind. We had no clothes then, only the policemen had clothes. The police took us to Noonkanbah Station. They tied the adult’s hands above their heads in the fork of a tree and flogged them all over. After the flogging some people went to jail and the others were let go.

The police gave my dad a note before he was let go, and was told to go to Nerrima station. My dad was a bushman. He chucked the note away when we got clear of the police. Later we found out that he was supposed to give the note to the Nerrima Station mananger and start work there. When I was getting whiskers I went to Nerrima Station to learn cattle work, and when my mother died I went to Jubilee Station.

I have worked all of my life on sheep and cattle stations making it good for other people. Painting bush stories makes me happy. I hope you like them too.

Waterholes and Streams ∙ 30 x 47 ∙ acrylic on canvas ∙ $2,200

Jila ∙ 35 x 54 ∙ acrylic on canvas ∙ $2,400

Milj Milji ∙ 35 x 52 ∙ acrylic on canvas ∙ $2,300

All images on this site copyright to the artist © 2007 The Brigham Galleries
This site is maintained by Robert Foster.