In this documentary, Aboriginal elder Bob Randall poignantly explains why his people are now struggling in a modern world and what needs to be done for them to move forward. Bob has also written a book called ‘Songman – the story of an aboriginal elder’ published by ABC Books. What’s also of interest is the story behind the making of Kanyini – of film maker Melanie Hogan. The documentary and her story are on the Kanyini website and also in Issue 8 of Dumbo Feather magazine.
The road in the end taking the path the sun had taken, into the western sea, and the moon rising behind you as you stood where ground turned to ocean: no way to your future now but the way your shadow could take, walking before you across water, going where shadows go, no way to make sense of a world that wouldn’t let you pass except to call an end to the way you had come, to take out each frayed letter you brought and light their illumined corners, and to read them as they drifted through the western light; to empty your bags; to sort this and to leave that; to promise what you needed to promise all along, and to abandon the shoes that had brought you here right at the water’s edge, not because you had given up but because now, you would find a different way to tread, and because, through it all, part of you could still walk on, no matter how, over the waves.
Ruth Bader Ginsberg followed in the footsteps of racial equality to change the way the world is for American women. Both still require vigilant attention and ongoing change, but there is hope in this documentary – and the pursuit of a dream.
It began with a Black Dog who, much like the fabled little black duck – was different.
Unaccepted for his difference he sought refuge in dark places.
In time, the darkness revealed others sheltering in the shadows that drew reflections of himself.
In the belonging, he gained the strength to raise a hand above the nodding and question why suffering souls too often go unheard.
Burdened by the silence and neglect, he began to bark loudly despite those troubled by the noise.
And when backs were turned to bury all that had been found – Black Dog continued digging for all that had been lost.
Hope grew from every hand that gave purely for the giving. And so, despite colour and size and the absence of wealth, and with the friends that followed…
…Black Dog claimed a space for those who may never fit, in a world too big for most. Those who seek to move beyond minds too small.
Those who seek freedom from the relentless pace of a world spinning way too fast to catch.
Now, as the world continues to turn away from the darkness in favour of, “Have a nice days”‘ and all that’s shiny and new…
…Black Dog continues to hold a place for all that’s lost and found .
