“The Muse” – Mixed media on cardboard, 56cm x 66cm incl frame

“From the valley…” – Acrylic on linen, 90cm x 120cm

“Building Bridges to Bright Futures” – Acrylic on marine ply, 120cm x 480cm quadtych

“With abandon…” – Acrylic on canvas, 90cm x 90cm

My name is Meloney. I am an African. But my skin is white.

I have a story to tell. A story so sad it makes me cry. It’s a story about life in Africa. My life…

Africa is in my blood. My heart beats with an African rhythm. My soul smiles with the African sunset. The African bush is in my bones. It’s part of who I am. I may have white skin, but inside I’m African.  My people are suffering. I see poverty. I see rags for clothing. I see hunger in their eyes. I see people robbed of dignity… children without hope… And my heart aches…

Africa is more than my birthplace – it’s my home. I am committed to be part of the healing process.

I said I could never leave. Never… is a big word.  These are my footsteps to freedom.

Footsteps to Freedom

Introduction

This body of work stands as “Footsteps to Freedom.” The title resonates deep within my soul for a number of reasons:
• On the 11th February 1990, Nelson Mandela, after being imprisoned for 27 years, chose to walk out of prison on his release. He chose to take momentous, liberating, groundbreaking footsteps to freedom, and to greet his people standing on his own two feet. We watched this history unfold! Madiba’s book is very significantly titled “Long Walk to Freedom.”
• When we emigrated to Australia, we had to say goodbye to our family, our friends and our country, and put one foot in front of the other and just… walk away. I remember telling Nikita this in the airport, as she crumpled over in pain, weeping with the grief of goodbye, “put one foot in front of the other one, Nikita, and walk…” We took our own Footsteps to Freedom.
• Progress is made step by step. In art. In life. In faith. In character growth. In building wealth and family and business – progress happens step by step.
• Freedom is the very essence of Australia, and that is something to be celebrated.

Footsteps to Freedom portrays our own footsteps to freedom; it contrasts the bloodshed, crime, terror, sadness and bondage of Africa with our freedom found in Australia; and captures a sense of the displacement, rootlessness, heartache and loneliness of not belonging – landing in a strange land, in a strange culture, even though English is the language we share. It reveals the stark contrast between darkness and light. It contrasts the void of utter godlessness with the light, life, hope and freedom found through faith. Each painting is a vessel of truth.  The work overwhelmingly conveys victory over the darkness – because in the presence of light, darkness simply has to flee.

 

 

Context

“But like the Somali women in Aden, Africa struggled to look after her children and let them run with the wind, giving them freedom to find their own way in the world.” – Nafida Mohamed, in her book, “Black Mamba Boy.”

At the same time in history as the Berlin Wall was tumbling down, South Africa’s apartheid system was finally crumbling. Political parties like the ANC were being unbanned, political prisoners were being released, and media regulations and restrictions were being lifted.

After 27 years in prison, Nelson Mandela walked out a free man, and brought his very long walk to freedom into its next chapter. We watched this history unfold in silence and awe, and we all knew we were witnessing miracles.

On the 27th April 1994 South Africa stood in queues all sunny day long to cast our votes in South Africa’s first truly democratic election. Strangers hugged and held hands and had deep and meaningful conversations, people broke out in spontaneous song and dance, and freedom was a tangible and spiritual experience. Nkosi Sikelel’ iAfrica and Shosholoza rose to the heavens, and love and hope, encompassing and undiscriminating, flooded our hearts. We all knew that we were living in a remarkable, FANTASTIC time in history where potential overflowed as freedom for all was celebrated and embraced.

In time, somehow, sadly, things began to change. Everything began to fall apart. The injustices of the past were burdens that couldn’t and wouldn’t instantly disappear. Change couldn’t happen quickly enough for the masses that had been promised the world. Inexperienced government could not shoulder the burdens, and carry the country forward with strength. In-fighting erupted. Tribal struggles multiplied. Things began to topple. Crime was rampant. Corruption was rife. Consequences for wrong-doing were removed, or not enforced. Darkness was given free reign. Suffering prevailed.

There is a book called “Cry, the Beloved Country,” written by Alan Paton during the apartheid era, that highlighted the wrongs of the apartheid system, and called for reform. The truth of the matter is that the Beloved Country has been crying for centuries – for one reason after another. Apartheid and its horrors caused weeping as the injustice tore the beloved country apart. Democracy and justice eventually prevailed. Truth and reconciliation were attempted. But the people couldn’t yet bear it. So role reversal took place – one in which whites are disadvantaged and unwelcome, where crime DOES pay, and justice is NOT served.

We had to leave our beloved country. We CHOSE to leave our beloved country.

It’s too sad and too shocking for words… Africa STILL struggles to look after her children, and tosses them to the wind… forcing them to find their own way and place in the world.

A triptych of words glow through the pain and bloodshed… a painting based on words that were written long before we left Africa.  This is to “make it clear on tablets” as the prophet Haggai spoke. It sets the scene, paints the background, and describes the reason for the tears.

 

 

I am using a lot of red in this body of work. Unusual for me. But the pain and bloodshed of the past call for it. And when I wash out my brushes and water, blood fills the sink. It feels like I’m washing away bloodshed. It fills me with disgust and horror. And my hands have blood on them. Bright and fresh, or dark and dry – it’s blood.

We South Africans have blood on our hands. Perhaps not all of us engaged in murder. But the apartheid system, followed by the totally lawless system, set up hatred and dissention and disunity – and it resulted in the loss of life. Oppression, abuse, horrific injustice and terrorizing DO amount to loss of life – sometimes by murderous retaliation, at ‘best’ by loss of freedom and hope – which basically amounts to loss of life in the fullest sense of the words.

We have blood on our hands. And I had to paint it. Bloodshed and tears.

Repentance and Almighty intervention remains the only hope for Africa.

 

 

Across the road from our home, José’s body sat under the sheet, in his armchair in his lounge room. His wife and two little girls cried in their bedroom.

I remember his toes. They were stiff and contorted. They looked shocked.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

I watched my dad wave goodbye in his army uniform in Rhodesia (now Zimbabwe), wondering if that would be the last moment I’d see him alive. Would this one be the last one? Or this one? Or this one? Or this one?

Every time he received his call-up papers, we’d go through the same thing. He spent more time in the army than he did at home. Six weeks in, five weeks out.

When I cried in the car, I was told to be a big girl. Big girls don’t cry.

 

 

 

 

 

At school we had drills where we had to get under our desks In The Event Of A Terrorist Attack. I felt the terror. I wondered how being under a desk would help me if terrorists came crashing through the door.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

I heard on the radio how the terrorists had cut off a man’s ears, and forced his wife to cook and eat them.
This was my childhood.

 

 

 

 

 

 

In Year 7, my daughter and Catherine were school friends.
Catherine was sodomised while her mother was raped, by a gang that broke into their house one night. She was only in year 7!  God, have mercy on us!!!

 

 

 

 

 

 

A baby was dumped in a skip bin. This was life in Africa.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

A selection of vital statistics:

Dad was held at gunpoint and had to stare down the barrel of a gun 4 times! Each time blessed to walk away with his life… Nquobile’s brother was driven over from behind whilst walking home from school. They left him stone dead. Richard Dawson and his two mates, whist on their early-morning cycle, were also mowed over from behind – all three of them! A group of friends were terrorised in their own home by gunmen that jumped over the walls whist they were gathered for a lunch – to the point where the children lost control of their bodily functions! Stephen was shot in the neck and is now crippled from the neck down. Warren was stripped and beaten to within an inch of his life. John and Debbie’s home was emptied while they were asleep in their beds, locked behind the security gate in their passage. Neighbours were robbed and traumatised by a crowd that broke in while they lay in bed at 10:30pm. The rape and murder of a seventy-nine year old woman made the newspaper because it was the NINTH murder with the same modus operandi in the neighbourhood. A six-year old little girl was kidnapped, raped to death and left in the bushes not far from her home – in our neighbourhood. This was life in Africa. This is life in Africa, even at present.

The sun set over our time in Africa.

Flat plains… acacia tree… sunset sky… But the sky is weeping. Tears roll down, rivulets washing away the colours. The tear-stained sky is mourning. GRIEVING.

The sun set over Africa. For us.

 

 

Goodbye. Why is “good” in that word?

We had to say goodbye to our parents and family and friends and homeland, and walk away.

Crumbling… crying… crawling with everything inside… forcing myself and my young children to take just one step after another… handling 100kg of luggage on my own because Johan was already here. I had to do it on my own. I walked away from my homeland. I walked my way to freedom.

Openings in the wall allowed final glimpses of Africa. Friends ran alongside, on the other side of the wall, to get a last, last, last glimpse. Darkness surrounded me. It was like I had to walk through the fire… like walking on hot coals. It burned, it hurt, it tore me apart.

I had to say goodbye… and walk away…

Something in me died.

 

 

When you can walk no further…  When you are battered by the storm, when the ocean’s waves bash you and threaten to sweep you away, and when you can walk no further… you crawl!

When you are barely identifiable as human, when you are only half-human half-beast, when your guts has been ripped out, and your hair is no longer your crowning glory but a seething mess, and your eyes are swollen and raw… and you can walk no further… YOU CRAWL!

You summon every bit of life left in you and you move forward! Even if it is on hands and knees like an animal, you fight for life and crawl!

 

 

Roots torn from the ground burst like blood vessels, and burn in the scorching sun.

I wanted to shrink away from the heat, but I couldn’t. The pain… the pain was unbearable. It was like sweating blood.

I tasted what it was like to live in a hell-hole. Parched, thirsty, in agony, bruised and torn, and powerless to escape. That’s how it felt to be uprooted.

 

 

 

                  
Broken, bruised, burned and empty… That’s how all this left me.

These works may be the start of an “Out of Africa” series. You expect, with a title like that, something beautiful, exotic… But in reality, all we are is broken, bruised, burned and empty. Absolutely drained. Empty.

 

 

A family stands together, facing their future. It is bright, brilliant, and filled with light.

South African reality is carved out as a permanent record: Terror… Torture… Rape… Hunger… Fear… Carnage… Struggle… Killing… Violence… Evil… Pain… Crime… Disaster… Hijacking… Horror… Atrocities… Murder…

The gates of terror, turmoil and darkness were opened, and allowed us a glimpse of the most breathtaking light and colour. It beckoned us forward, enticing us onward. And yes, we took our footsteps to freedom. It took us years, and we did it, step by step. We had a God-given vision of freedom and hope, and that carried us through, on our Long Walk to Freedom.

 

 

Immigration is the battle to find one’s feet in a strange culture in a foreign land. I painted the attempt to fit in. The feeling of not quite fitting in. I open my mouth and the sound is foreign. We stand out like a little group of Africans – whether we want to or not.

And yes, we were welcomed. But we weren’t Aussies. We didn’t understand the language, the culture, the jokes. But we knew we had found neutral territory. A place to grow.

 

 

Blowing in the wind is about surrendering to a process much bigger than we could resist. Allowing the winds of change to cleanse and free us. Loosening our hold on the African way. Feeling the clear blue sky surround us…

Yes, we were rootless. Unsettled… But we were alive. And free.

 

 

The air is cool and fresh and clear. Gusts of the breeze are peeling the autumn leaves off the trees, setting them free to dance and soar.

The stripping process creates room for the next phase of life. Bound leaves are set free. Spring follows winter. A new season begins. Winds of Change bring it on.

 

 

A poem I wrote about the first painting in the Great Southland series:
Gumnuts and leaves…
Colourwash ease…
Spontaneity and freshness…
Multicultural richness…
Australia 2008 splashed out in paint
For all the world to see.

In the background depicted
are words – integrated
into the very foundations of our land.
God’s word in our constitution recorded,
de Quiros’ prophesy claimed.
AfJ… AfJ… it stands.

We saw the way from Africa where giraffe and zebra roam. African vision is forced open and the future beckons…

A future where Australia’s impact extends beyond confining limitations, and where the darkness cannot consume her beautiful light and colour-filled promise. She will rise up and become the Great Southland of the Holy Spirit as de Quiros spoke… Her people will be ignited as the Spirit moves across the land… Gold flames will flicker in the breeze, and this passion will be passed along, person by person, until united we stand.

The time has come. It is now.

 

 

An African vessel is tipped over, emptied out, and finally morphs into a gumnut! While true-blue Aussie in essence, traces of Africa remain, and merely serve to add a faint touch of ethnic character. This is the naturalisation process.

I looked it up in the thesaurus. To naturalise is to accept, to adopt. That’s exactly it! The process of accepting / being accepted and adopting Australia / Australia adopting us – this is naturalization. It means so much to us…

 

 

There is a time for everything under the sun – a time to cry, and a time to laugh – so said King Solomon, the wisest man in history.

I have learned that being an African-Australian means I can do both cry and laugh virtually simultaneously – and I need to allow myself to feel both fully. My heart rejoices and loves Australia, I belong, I’m home, and I’m filled with gratitude for my new homeland and its hope and freedom. But there is a root connection to my birthplace that will probably never go away. I feel for her people, I am carried back in time by images or smells or sounds that sometimes hit me so hard that it takes my breath away. Or reduces me to unstoppable tears… But the trauma of the journey dictates that acceptance of this polarity is healthy, for as long as it needs to be so. And in this acceptance, I am no longer crippled, but am released to grow and feel and heal – and do so freely.

Ecclesiates is a carved wooden giraffe out of Africa. He was waiting for me to find him, so that he could give me this message, and so that I could take him home as a permanent reminder. On one side of his face he is smiling a broad-lipped smile, whilst on the other side, a tear rolls slowly down. And all is well…

God spoke to my heart through a wooden giraffe I named Ecclesiastes.

 

 

We stand tall and proud, filled with the colour and character of Australia, with our feet firmly on the ground, and become citizens of our new homeland. And everything within shouts “Australians all, let us rejoice! For we ARE young and FREE!” We are Australian.

WE ARE AUSTRALIAN.

 

 

Foreground

 

Psalm 23:
“You prepare a table for me in the presence of my enemies.
You anoint my head with oil.
My cup overflows…”

My African-Australian cup overflows. Even when my eyes cannot see it.

 

 

In a previous dimension of life, in my past, stands an African Acacia, surrounded by the sienna and gold of Africa.  In the foreground, my present, stands a magnificent Australian Eucalypt, enveloped in the cool colours of the seaside – muted blues, greens and sands.

Emotion overcomes me. The journey was so hard. I had to move… forward in faith…  And now I rest. As an African vessel, formed of the African earth, I now rest at the foot of a gum tree.  And all is well. All is well.

Jeremiah 29:11 “I know the plans I have for you, declares the Lord. Plans for peace and not disaster, plans to give you a future filled with hope.”

 

 

The incredible Eucalypt – gum nuts and gum leaves and gum trees in all their glory – is an essentially Australian element of my new homeland. Stately, majestic trees, they stand tall and proud and strong, just like the Australian people. These giants bear the storms, survive the fire, endure the drought – just like us Aussies do.  The Eucalypt is the backbone of almost every patch of bush, the essence of the smell of the bush, the life support for many native creatures, a symbol of the great Australian dream to own a little patch of bush and a “home among the gum trees.”  The Eucalypt speaks out for conservation of the environment, for being green, of lushness reliant on water for life, and for the delicate balance that we, as humans, have the responsibility to maintain and improve, rather than destroy.  Yes, I do believe the soul of Australia is captured in the gum tree…

Immense proportions, beyond comprehension, Australia is magnificently positioned – gum leaves fluttering in the breeze of the world stage and history’s page – to stand tall and share the light and hope and truth we hold.

Ignited with passion for our land and for our freedom and for the Truth embedded in our foundations and encoded in our character, united in our diversity and nature of being strong, determined, multicultural patriots, may we shine our Light for all the world to see – for God’s glory. As a people, may we remain strong, protecting our ideals and identity and values and godliness and all those things that make us “Australian” – for this is our homeland, our heartland.

We hold the vision of a future filled with hope, and it reaches to the heavens.

The gum… the soul Australian tree.

 

 

Judith Durham sings:

“We are one
Though we are many
And from all the lands on earth we’ve come
To share a dream
And sing with one voice
“I am… you are… we are Australian…”

That’s what this painting is about: diversity, unity, community.  PASSION burning for our country. We’re NUTS about our country. “Gum nuts!”  We are Australian.

 

 

Intricate, interesting, sophisticated, earthy-patterned gum leaves flutter against dry-brushed neutral light. And against it, the leaves glow.

It expresses the diversity and character of Australia and her people, all of whom hold the vision of a future filled with hope for themselves and their families. We are strong, determined, multicultural patriots who love our country, and nurture a glowing passion for our homeland. We are home among the gum trees. Where we belong.

 

 

The moon shines brightly against the night sky. The presence of the trees is more felt than seen, and the foreground leaves glow brightly, edged in silvery moonshine.

The crucial lesson I learned from this painting is that the positive space, the subject of the painting (in this case the gum leaves), is influenced by and affected by the negative space. Adjustment of the negative background affects the positive in an amazing way – without even touching the subject! This is not only true to fine art – it’s true to life. Adjustment of the background can influence the way you see what is in front of your eyes. Adjustment of an attitude or preconception can alter perceptions, experiences and opinions, and ultimately expand and enlarge one’s viewpoint.

It’s a valuable lesson: to adjust the way one experiences something, you can adjust the space in which the subject is viewed.

 

 

Power Poles smoulder against an ambiguous background – cells, structure, energy and potential revealed beyond the exterior layers. Falling leaves flit like butterflies between the trees, foreground leaves come into sharp and colourful focus, and Grace-Cossington Smith’s “golden thread” touches the scene.

In painting and pondering I have concluded that these gum trees, true-blue Aussie icons, are power poles – in more ways than one! We have chopped them down and used their tall, straight character to distribute power all over the continent – and electricity supply means life and progress for mankind. Left standing in their forest setting, they hold more power… The power to provide food for our little koalas that are not found anywhere else in the world… The power contained in Eucalyptus oil to clean and disinfect… The power to increase rainfall in an area… The power of a sustainable future… A future that is lush and green instead of a dry, barren desert.  They are really and truly Power Poles.

“Wise people will understand these things. A person with insight will recognize them…” Hosea 14:9
This forms a grass-like groundcover, a transparent grounding that anchors the gum trunks. The Word anchors us.

 

 

Home among the gum trees I am…

A blood red sky offsets the fluttering gum leaves, tinged with glowing orange edges. The warm light seems to set everything alight…

In artistic terms, the leaves flutter against a “deep red ground,” which also speaks to me of our land of Australia. I think of the deep colour of the red soil… the “Red Centre” of the continent… the deep heart of our country and her people… and of the heartbeat of all Australians which beats for our land. Deep red ground is real heart-land, isn’t it? And the heart of Australia needs to be protected and nurtured so that the love doesn’t grow cold, and so that as a people we remain strong, protecting our ideals and identity and values and godliness and all those things that make us “Australian”.

This is the land of my heart.

This is “Heartland”.

 

 

Slowly, slowly, I am letting go… Slowly, slowly, I am releasing my burdens…Slowly, softly, I feel myself becoming more me. The long forgotten, long-subdued me is unfurling, unfolding, and stretching, like a brand-new butterfly finding its life outside the confines of the chrysalis.

I breathe in the beautiful Palmwoods air and I smile inside. This piece of land takes my breath away. Our new home takes my breath away. My roots are sinking deeper and spreading into this fertile Palmwoods soil. My heart and soul sings.

I look out over the treetops and this beautiful valley. And my eyes are drawn to the base of the palm I planted between the boulders beside our bedroom. For out of the bark mulch, I see new life unfolding. The nasturtium seeds I planted have been cradled in the warm soil, protected and cosy. Rains from heaven have softened both the earth and their hardened outer covering, and slowly but surely the nasturtiums have stretched out, up into the sunlight, and have unfolded their round leafy hands to the sky.

I too have sunk my eager roots deeper into the soil. I am finally home. Peaceful Palmwoods is where I’ll grow. And I raise my hands and heart to heaven and I’m SO grateful. My cup OVERFLOWS.

Butterflies, nasturtiums and me… That’s my story.

 

 

I am HOME…

A small, intimate painting is appropriate for this small, intricate scene of “Home” – the character-filled teapot resting among the leaves carpeting the forest floor.

Jesus instructed the man he had healed, in Luke 8:39, to “Go home and tell your family how much God has done for you.” The big tasks, filled with bright lights and miracles, are just as important as the little tasks, whispered between the walls of home.  “Home” is about seeing the little things, maintaining perspective, and realising that the little things ARE the big things. It’s about not being too purpose-driven to LIVE… it’s about the beauty in simplicity and simple fare… about close-focus and about how God’s glory resonates through even the “little things.”

 

 

Right now, I’m just a little sapling. One day I’m gonna be a mighty, big tree!

 

 

Gumnuts painted on a HUGE scale – a la Tim McGuire – smoulder against a cool grey-purple sky bursting with richness.

It is the “inner glow” of the tree and its fruit that attracts… and this requires that we are PLANTED – deeply rooted, and fully settled; FRUITFUL – bearing plenty of it for all to see and enjoy; and ON FIRE – filled to overflow with potential and purpose and passion.

And my heart is in it – the Aussie gumnut with an African imprint. Africa, inscribed on my soul, will always be a part of me – even while I am planted here, home among the gum trees.

 

 

Here in Australia we have a really special native tree called a Macaranga, or in common terms, a Tree Frog Tree. Large leaves offer shelter to the local Green Tree Frog, and the fresh colour, neat and structured growth habit, and sheer size of the leaves make it a bold, eye-catching specimen among the rainforests where we live.

Macaranga Shelter is where you’d look to find the little local treasure, the glossy green jewel with a wide-lipped smile.

Here on The Retreat, amongst the macaranga’s and picabeen palms and rainforest, is where we’ve found shelter, too.

 

 

A pastel fairytale plays out along the shoreline. Whispering water caresses… Soft morning light kisses the water with sparkling diamonds… Pale sand swirls cool and comforting… Crystalline frosted leaves float along laughing… and there are even rainbows in the rocks.  It’s a magical picture. Where life is smiling. And dreams come true.

 

 

A still life of a vase of Aussie bush-style flowers and foliage was placed on a white tablecloth, with a scattering of gumnuts at its base. I just couldn’t resist a smattering of “home among the gum trees”… of earthiness and cosiness and warmth and comfort and… home sweet home.

The painting became filled with glory… and my mind opened to comprehend that God’s glory rests in the still life.  There is Glory in the Still Life.

 

 

 

 

 In summary

“Footsteps to Freedom” begins with my childhood and my life in Africa. And yes, it is a dark and deep beginning…

These are MEMORIES. They are mine. And now they’re shared. They exist in the world in the form of tangible images and words, and my hope is that somehow they cause a spark of determination in every Aussie they touch – to stand strong and ENSURE that our country NEVER sinks into God-less anarchy, and that we stand up and fight for our rights and values.

“Footsteps to Freedom” has not only helped me to take my footsteps to freedom by painting and laying down the past, it calls this Great Southland to attention, to guard our values and culture, our life and future.

Australia’s foundation was laid by many people who, like me, set their feet on this soil as new arrivals; together with the struggle and sacrifices of the Original Australians against injustices done to them – and the generation lost in the process; together with subsequent generations of nation-builders. Our freedom as Australians is hard-earned.

We need to preserve and protect our country. This is OUR HOME. It is built on our values, hopes, dreams, and visions for our future. We must shut the door on those who cannot, will not, or refuse to, fit in – and we must stand guard and be alert. Australia’s future is in OUR hands! We have a duty of care to do the right thing by our homeland, for our sakes, and for the future of our children.

We won’t get a second chance at this.

And yes, this is a free country. Every person is free to operate within the boundaries of our laws, and our laws are based on God’s word, and our constitution on Christian principles. Every person is free to choose – fit in, or… go home! Simple. This is Australia, our country. There is room for those who will ADD to her advancement, and willingly embrace our freedoms. Let’s not EVER underestimate the impact of dropping our guard, or being complacent, passive and apathetic – because it will lead to our downfall.

“Footsteps to Freedom” is lest we forget. Let us NEVER forget what God has brought us from. Let us never forget to thank him for our freedom and for all the blessings that He so generously pours down on us. Let us keep these images of bright colourful light and splendour before us, so that daily we are reminded of how blessed we are! And let us guard our country, our values and culture, our life and future and faith, wholeheartedly.

Lest we forget.

“Moonlight among the gum trees” – Acrylic on canvas, 120cm x 120cm