All roads lead home

For many Aboriginal and Torres Strait Islander people, they have no choice but to leave their homes, whether it be seeking health treatments, education or work opportunities.

This is particularly relevant for those who live in regional and remote Australia. In the Torres Strait for example the outter islands don’t have a secondary school and it’s an accepted fact that kids will go away to boarding school on the mainland.

In many remote communities it’s a fact of life that they will travel to major cities and experience lengthy stays away from home to seek treatment.

Many young people accept the burden of leaving their homes in pursuit of an education that might lead to a job that could better financially support their families.

Everyone I’ve spoken to talk about the lingering warmth and comfort they have knowing that what ever road they take, they will always feel tethered to their home and they can always return.

This is also true for the generations of children born away from their countries. The first time visiting their country is magical and it feels as though a puzzle piece clicks into place inside.

As someone who grew up on the mainland, this is how I felt when I visited the Strait for the first time. It was overwhelming but I immediately felt an explosion of warmth and was immediately at ease, as if this home had always been here waiting for me to return.

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My name is Samantha, and I’m a proud Torres Strait Islander woman with ancestral connections to both the Eastern and Central Islands, as well as Kiwi and Scottish ancestry. I was born on the mainland on Turrbal/Yuggera Country and raised on Kaurna Yerta.

My paintings are a contemporary expression of my deep connection with First Nations peoples across many countries. Each piece reflects the relationships, stories, and truths I’ve gathered through my journey.

I’ve had the privilege of visiting over 70 communities across Australia and listening to thousands of people share their lived experiences with me. These stories nourish my soul and deepen my connection to the rich and complex fabric of this nation.

But listening also carries weight. Time and time again, I’m reminded of the ongoing inequities our people face — legacies of colonisation still embedded in our systems and institutions.

My art emerged as a form of healing. Taught to me by healers in different parts of the country, these techniques became a way to process the vicarious trauma I was absorbing while engaging with communities across areas like health and wellbeing, education, child protection, incarceration, domestic and family violence, employment, and justice.

Through repetition and rhythm, these artistic methods calm my mind and allow me to fully process what I’ve heard. Each piece is part of my healing — keeping me strong, grounded, and able to continue fighting for our rights and elevating community voices in my professional life.

Every artwork I create is inspired by a real story — a moment, a voice, a truth I carry with me — and each one stands as a powerful reminder of the collective hope we share for a better future.