Over the many years, I've forged beautiful friendships with Djakapurra's family in North East Arnhem Land. I've been on cultural exchanges up to Yirrkala, Dhalinybuy, Bremmer Island and Yalangbara. I feel honoured to have been adopted into the Munyarryun family; the Yolngu kinship system.
We began filming Spear on country in Djakapurra's backyard, his homeland. Something really special about that place is the morning fog. Years ago, Djakapurra's family gave me the Yolngu name Wakalungul, a word or name which describes the early morning fog that dances on the spider webs. I love the traditional dance that encapsulates this and wraps it into the Yolngu songlines. This dew looks like spider-threaded jewels suspended through the trees and all over the earth. We filmed one of my scenes in Spear at break of day drawing the magic of the wakalungul into the film.
As a contemporary dancer, you’re trained on a plastic floor, then you go out bush and you're on the earth. Your feet have to reawaken, toughen up and grow new thick skin. We were filming early one morning and I didn't have my glasses on and all of a sudden I felt as though the earth was throbbing. I looked down and there were thousands of baby frogs jumping up and down and all over my feet.
I was pregnant with my son Xavier in the studio scenes. It's not just you performing, it's you and your little baby, getting to know each other while you're telling stories. It's storytelling, right from the beginning.
There are all these lines about family connection, to the future and the next generation and your ancestors. That's what I find so significant about Spear.