Skin painting : winner of the David Unaipon Award / Elizabeth Hodgson.Series: UQP black Australian writersPublication details: St Lucia, Qld. : University of Queensland Press, 2008.Description: 61 p. ; 20 cmISBN:
- 9780702236778 (pbk.) :
- A821.4 22
- PR9619.4.H635 S55 2008
- Winner of the David Unaipon Award.
|Item type||Current library||Call number||Status||Date due||Barcode|
|Book||Jessie Street National Women's Library||821.4 HOD (Browse shelf(Opens below))||Available for reference in the library and ILL||66917|
Cover: 'Hodgson's poems are beautifully nuanced ... subtle and powerful', Jennifer Martiniello.
Machine generated contents note: I am sitting in an exhibition room; alone -- Somewhere beyond this room is the sound of children -- At school I spent my time staring out of the window -- Two girls linger by a triptych - -- The room is quiet again -- This is my memory of my life -- Bindawalla, binda, bindi, bindii -- Little two-year-old in yellow plastic sandals -- Mr Cage, can you imagine -- I am in a room; it is day but the room is dark -- Sometimes the man and his wife go away -- These people give me a religion I do not want -- They change my name, I am no longer Elizabeth -- Little four-year-old with bells on her slippers - -- Every weekday - porridge -- When I don't eat my porridge -- Drip by precious drip, my life re-begins -- I have a toy stroller, filled with dolls -- One day my guardian comes to visit -- I know many places well - some I can still smell -- This place that I know well -- My best friend Vicky and I were invited to the minister's place for tea --
Contents note continued: Some memory paintings are suitable for public display -- Before Lutanda my father taught us about bush-tucker -- Sometimes I'd buff my shoes until I was mesmerised -- My father gave me a camera -- The adults at Lutanda ran our little lives -- My mother knitted herself a yellow jumper -- The tree-lined street where my guardian's lover lived -- Sometimes we would knock and knock but the door stayed shut -- Father gained custody of me and my siblings -- Now I am fifteen, I am living with my father -- My father is waltzing me around the lounge room -- At seventeen I moved into the anonymity and solitude of Sydney -- Revered in her church community, the step-grandmother -- Have you ever stood on the edge of your country and wondered where you belong? -- I am twenty, homeless and restless -- Husband number one tells me -- Husband number one -- My culture and my place were things I did not know how to reach -- I have an obsession with polished boots --
Contents note continued: Once, I became a Christian -- There is so much I have lost, there are things I've never known about my people -- When you walk this land do you notice the tracks of my people? -- I am a Wiradjuri woman -- I've heard it said I'm now at the invisibility age -- What is your yardstick, your benchmark? -- I am sitting in an exhibition room in an art gallery -- These words are my phoenix.
Winner of the David Unaipon Award.