Australian Aboriginal Art Painting on display in Melbourne, Aus

Australian Aboriginal art has always been a huge inspiration in my abstract artwork. I love indigenous art from cultures all over the world, but Aboriginal art always held a certain attraction for me – the colors, the patterns, and the symbolism are all so imbued with meaning. Aboriginal art in its purest form is not separate from daily life – it is part of it, intricately interwoven with their belief system.

A few days ago I had the joy of viewing a collection of Australian Aboriginal art paintings on permanent display at the National Gallery of Victoria in Melbourne, Australia. Seeing these works in person is a moving experience because the artworks function on a level that goes far beyond the visual.

Aboriginal Painting in the National Gallery of Victoria

Many Aboriginal art paintings represent the “Dreamtime” or “Dreaming”, which are terms used to describe various Aboriginal creation stories – what we would call myths. These creation stories explain the origins of the tribes, the formations of certain geological features, as well as outline their spiritual and philosophical beliefs. The Dreamtime explains the balance and relationship of all these aspects.

Collection of Aboriginal Art Paintings

Traditional Aboriginal paintings often resemble a map of sorts. Traditional symbols are used to represent water, waterholes, clouds, stars, fire, smoke, rain, cliffs and sandhills. There are also symbols that represent people, especially people sitting, alone or in groups, and often in front of a fire or camp site.

Look at the painting above, on the far right. The half-circles probably represent people and the concentric circles most likely represent a meeting place, such as a fire, camp site, stone or well.

close up of Aboriginal Art Dot Painting

Australian Aboriginal art is most commonly noted for their dots, as you can see in the close-up above. The dots can represent things like stars or sparks, although they are also used to obscure the meaning of the Dreamtime paintings. The secrets of the Dreamtime are only meant for the initiated, so traditionally they have been closely guarded. With the rising popularity of Aboriginal art to global collectors, many Aboriginal artists have painted the dots to cover up the symbolism underneath.

The dots are painted by dipping a paintbrush into a pot of acrylic paint and then dotting the paint on the canvas, usually with the paintbrush being held at a 90 degree angle to the canvas. Canvases are usually laid flat on the ground, so the artist works in a sitting position and moves around the painting.

Awilyulu by Tommy Watson

The paintings above and below are contemporary Australian Aboriginal art paintings by Tommy Watson, born in 1935. The painting above, Awilyulu, was painted in 2003. This paintings depicts his country, with sandhills at the top and water snakes towards the center. The painting below, Anamarapiti, was painted in 2002 and depicts the land where he grew up. The circles represent rockholes.

Anamarapiti by Tommy Watson

Australian Aboriginal art continues to hold a deep fascination for me. I am immensely pleased to finally be in Australia, where I can learn more about these artworks and the artists who create them.

I loved the wild ponies in Dartmoor National Park.  They are so cute and friendly!  They allow people to get very close to them.  I was still cautious and wouldn’t get too close, since they are still wild animals, after all. 

They liked to come up to cars and rub their tooshes on the car bumpers.  There aren’t many trees in this part of the park, so I guess there aren’t many other opportunities to get a good rubbing!

In 2006 I visited Thailand for the first time as an adult.  This photo was taken at Wat Kaek, a unique sculpture park near the city of Nong Khai on the Mekong River.  The sculpture park was filled with hundreds of strange, surreal concrete sculptures which fused a stylistic blend of Hindu and Buddhist iconography with (then) modern folk art.  The story goes that a Laotian spiritual leader named Luang Pu had a dream filled with wonderful, bizarre images, and when he awoke he commissioned dozens of folk artists (possibly his disciples) to materialize his imaginary creations.  The result is a fantastic and engaging collection of sculptures that, when you are surrounded by them, take you into another world.  It’s easy to spend hours in the park, absorbing the various details of each piece (and there are hundreds of pieces!).  This photo depicts a 90-foot tall sculpture of the Buddha sitting peacefully before a ferocious 7-headed naga, a legendary Thai serpent-snake that features in a lot of their art and sculpture.  The sculpture is huge and towering, causing quite a stunning visual impact.

This was taken last week during our vacation in Southwest England.  We spent a few fun days poking around Cornwall, Devon and Somerset, glimpsing a side of England that I had never seen before.  I had previously spent most of my time in England in Brighton (about an hour south of London), which has a completely different atmosphere and pace of life than what I experienced in the Southwest.  Brighton is bustling, busy, throbbing with culture and counter-culture.  The areas I visited in the Southwest were comparatively much more quiet and rural, with a relaxed, easy-going atmosphere.  Granted, we did tend to spend more time during our vacation touring the national parks, rather than seeking out big city life.  

During this trip I really fell in love with the moors.  The first time I saw moorland in Wales, I have to admit I wasn’t very impressed.  It looked scrubby and boring, with not much vegetation.  I much preferred towering trees, falling leaves and wild bushes of edible berries.  However, the moors grew on me over time.  I’ve come to really love the sense of bleak desolation and moodiness that accompanies the moorland.  The colors of the vegetation are often beautiful, ranging from burnt orange and crispy yellow to drab olive green and patches of violet.  Add to this the atmospheric hues of washed out blues, greens, and blue-greens comprising the undulating hills in the distance, along with the often grey bundles of clouds trundling above, and all-in-all it becomes a rather impressive, thought-provoking environment.  Flocks of grazing sheep and wild ponies are often sprinkled around the hills, alleviating the desolate atmosphere with their lively and innocent presence.

I also have to admit that I fell in love with the moorland even further after seeing the 2006 BBC adaptation of Jane Eyre, which was aired recently on the weekends just before our vacation.  I haven’t read the book yet, but I really enjoyed the BBC version, and felt there was something endlessly beautiful about Jane’s desperate and tragic wanderings through the empty, unwelcoming moors.

But, tragedy and desolation aside, I managed to snap a slightly more happy photo of the moorland in Exmoor National Park.  This shot was taken near Dunkery Beacon after rainfall.  It was a perfect rainbow, and I’ll save the shot of the other end of it for another day.

Brighton Beach Carousel

I took this photo in 2006 whilst living in Brighton, UK.  Brighton Beach was unlike any other beach I had seen before, having grown up in Florida amidst smooth, silky sand beaches.  Brighton Beach consists of seemingly endless layers of smooth pebbles.  In some ways it’s more preferable than sand, because it doesn’t get stuck between your toes (unless of course you’re wearing sandals) or to your damp skin.  The downside is that you can’t make sand castles.  I like this shot because of the kitschy, nostalgic aura of the carousel amidst a bright blue sky and pebbly shore.  The lack of people adds a layer of eeriness and emptiness.