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Skin painting : winner of the David Unaipon Award / Elizabeth Hodgson.

By: Series: UQP black Australian writersPublication details: St Lucia, Qld. : University of Queensland Press, 2008.Description: 61 p. ; 20 cmISBN:
  • 9780702236778 (pbk.) :
Subject(s): DDC classification:
  • A821.4 22
LOC classification:
  • PR9619.4.H635 S55 2008
Contents:
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.
Awards:
  • Winner of the David Unaipon Award.
Holdings
Item type Current library Call number Status Date due Barcode
Book 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.

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