This work delves into the haunting reality behind the so-called history of ‘Australia’ and the stolen generations. It speaks to the deep wounds inflicted upon my people, particularly the South-Eastern mob, who endured the profound suffering. When those black cars rolled in, children were called to run, to hide…running, leaping fences in desperate bids for safety. Yet, in a land now teeming with these white ghosts, relentlessly seeking to claim our souls, our lives, our very essence, one must wonder; when will we ever be truly safe?

In the shadows of our past, we find ourselves entwined in an eternal dance of survival, where the echoes of our ancestors’ footsteps guide us. Each brushstroke on this canvas is a whisper of our resilience, a testament to the spirit that refuses to be extinguished. The land itself, scarred yet sacred, cradles our collective memory, urging us to remember and reclaim.

The air is thick with the sighs of our forebears, a melancholic symphony that underscores our existence. We are the children of the dreamtime, navigating through a fractured present, ever seeking the embrace of a future where out stories are no longer whispered in the shadows but celebrated in the light. This piece  is a beacon of our enduring hope, a reminder that despite the ghosts that haunt us, our spirit remains unbroken, ever yearning for the day when safety is not a distant dream but a lived reality.