Lauren Freestone is a contemporary Indigenous artist based on Awabakal Country Newcastle.
Her works have featured on homewares, fashion, in magazines and promoted on Nine’s popular renovation reality television show The Block.
The 37-year-old Wiradjuri and Gumbaynggirr mother-of-two paints of her connection to country, something she is fiercely proud of.
But, she admits, she hasn’t always felt this way.
What does your art mean to you?
My art is a personal reflection of my story and where I come from, my family, and also my connection with the landscapes and the surroundings of my upbringing. I take a lot of inspiration from Wiradjuri country but also my childhood memories of Gumbaynggirr Country.
Describe your style.
I use a lot of texture and mixed mediums. They really draw you into the artwork. The textural element mimics nature. From the tree bark to the surface of sandstone cliffs and the rocky mountain scapes of Wiradjuri country where my great grandparents are from. I walk through the bush most days and admire how it changes with the seasons. Seeing the tree barks stripping away, all the green and greys along with that really mottled redgum texture with new growth all over it, or the big chunks of bark all over the ground – all of these changes inspire a lot of my work.
Can you remember when you first fell in love with art?
I’ve always been creative. That’s what we did when we went to dad’s house. After my mum and dad divorced, dad’s house was where we’d create art. He’d have boomerangs cut out of tabletops, and emu egg carvings, his artworks were everywhere. He’d carve timber fish and put shells around the bottom of it and paint them up, he was just always doing something creative with his hands. I think that’s where I get my creativity from.
When did you start painting?
I was creative as a child, but I didn’t start painting the way I do now until about seven or eight years ago. When my dad got sick it was a moment when I realised I couldn’t lose dad and not know his art, I needed to learn his stories. My dad is an introvert, like me, he goes into his own bubble to create. He could sit in silence painting all day. When I started painting I soon learnt to love the silence it brought to me too.
Is your style like his?
Dad’s style is more hunting stories, fishing, and animals. People coming down to the water in summer and going back up into the mountains in winter to hunt. It’s more traditional I guess in its story telling. He does a lot of coastal inspired paintings, living in Scotts Head Gumbaynggirr Country the ocean is everything. It’s a big part of your life, it’s what you surround yourself with each day.
Art as healing.
Painting is almost like a therapy session for me. I need to paint. Whether it is selling or not it will still always be happening, that’s just what creating is for me. It takes away my stress, my anxiety. The silence of creativity has a magic about it for me. I just have to tap into it and that’s my quiet time. I don’t know if that comes from my dad – he’s had his hurdles in his life and when he’s painting, he’s in his element, that’s his sacred space, his healing, I’ve seen it help him so much and for me to feel that as well now I think it’s part of our connection – that bond with art. I used to watch dad paint when I was younger and I’d think ‘have you got nothing better to be doing?’ – the patience every dot took, it looked painful to me, to just be sitting there.
You are Wiradjuri, raised on Gumbaynggirr Country.
Growing up in Scotts Head, on Gumbaynggirr Country, was the best. So much freedom as a child, just always at the beach or the river with all our friends. My family is Wiradjuri and my great grandparents were from Dubbo and Mudgee. There’s something really special about the bush out there for me. It is as it was in some places. You can go out there and feel like you are in the same spot that your ancestors were, and nothing has changed. That’s always special to me.
What does it mean to be ‘on Country’?
I get a bit locked up in the city, I feel like I can breathe again on Country. Learning more about my great grandparents and going out into their country and being present out there means so much to me. Whenever I need to fill my cup that’s where I go. I go out there and it’s quiet. I feel their presence. It’s hard to describe, it’s a feeling of belonging. It’s nice to take dad out there as well. Connection to country is such a personal thing for everyone it’s not going to be the same for everyone. I think it is something that can be used to steer you and guide you in the right direction too.
What was it like growing up Aboriginal?
I used to get teased a bit about it. The first memory I have of that is being in Year 5 or 6 and we were all in a row at assembly and I can remember one of the boys using a racist term to me and me looking around and not even being aware he was talking to me. It was the first time that I felt ashamed, which you do as a kid when you’re being picked on.
Have things changed since then?
Yes, I’m certainly proud to be Aboriginal. I have a much better understanding of it now than that scared little girl in primary school. We are all different and that’s ok too. Dad’s always been very proud of who he is and where we come from, and my kids have always known where they are from, they know way more than I ever did when I was younger. The change has to come from adults. A five-year-old doesn’t know what he’s saying – he’s getting it from somewhere. We’re seeing a positive start. We’ve got a long way to go but it’s a start.
What place do you dream of painting?
I’d love to go stay out by the Mudgee – Rylestone area with a bunch of canvases – there’s some beautiful places out there. I’ve painted Ganguddy/ Capertee before but not on Country. These are the places where my grandparents and great grandparents would gather, they are a big part of my family history. The Drip is another place of cultural significance. There’s something about the hill scapes out there, the landscape towering over you and putting you in your place. It reminds you that you are small in this giant world of nature. The stars remind you too, there’s so many of them out there…It’s like all these problems that we create for ourselves go away when you go back to nature, back to what’s real, and that’s the peace that I’m inspired by, the peace that makes me just want to paint.
Do you have any regrets?
I wish I’d spent more time with my pop, he was also an artist and sold his work at the markets in Port Macquarie. When you’re young, you just don’t want to listen. My grandfather’s name was Edmund Freestone, we called him Ted, or Fa-Fa. His style was more like dad’s, more traditional symbols and hunting stories, whereas mine is a personal interpretation of what I see in the natural world and our history. I wish I’d learned more about his art.
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