Saltwater Dreaming – Brad Turner's Journey through Family, Culture and Country

Q. Can you tell us about the moment with your daughter that sparked your journey into art?
A. The turning point came one afternoon around our family dining table. Ariah, my daughter, had been learning about Indigenous culture at school, her teachers had really made the effort to include those stories in the classroom. She came home curious, asking questions about symbols, language, and who we are. That curiosity lit something in all of us.

We started painting together not with any grand plan, just to explore. I thinned the paints, we let colours run, and in that spontaneous process, something meaningful started to take shape. It wasn’t just about art, it became a way for us to connect with our culture, to slow down and share stories. Watching Ariah explore her identity in this way made me reflect on my own journey, too.

That experience reminded me how powerful art can be, not just as expression, but as reconnection. And I realised, if it could bring that to us as a family, maybe it could do the same for others.

Q. How would you describe your style of art?
A. I’d describe my style as contemporary Indigenous art through a topographic lens like a spiritual map of Country viewed from above. A lot of my work resembles detailed landscape maps, but instead of roads and borders, I’m charting memory, movement, and connection. I’m drawn
to the natural features of the land contours, river systems,

elevation shifts and I interpret those through layers, lines, and symbols that reflect the deep storytelling embedded
in place.

The process itself is very intuitive. I dilute the pigments
with water and let it flow across the canvas, allowing the materials to move like the land does unpredictable, organic, alive. It’s a slow layering technique, and each wash builds depth, like the way the land reveals more the longer you walk it. It’s not something I sketch out first, it’s led by instinct. The shapes form almost subconsciously, echoing the flow of rivers, the ridges of hills, the pathways of ancestors.

I like to think of these pieces as living, breathing maps,
not just of physical Country, but of cultural memory. They’re large and immersive, inviting people to step into
a landscape that’s both grounded and spiritual. You might see symbols, pathways, and colour transitions that speak to our traditions, but also to a contemporary experience one that continues to evolve.

Q. How do you pass on your cultural knowledge to your daughter through art?
A. I see my role as one part of a much bigger circle.
I encourage her to ask questions and to follow those questions to the right people whether that’s her grandfather, community elders, or others in our cultural network. She’s surrounded by strong voices, and I want
her to know she can turn to many sources, not just me.

We paint together sometimes, but it’s not just about
what happens with a brush. Culture is passed on through shared experience at school, in sport, in art, in dance. It’s woven into everyday life. My job is to keep creating space for those conversations to happen and to help her feel proud of who she is. Culture lives through community,
not just through individuals. That’s how it stays strong.

Q. How do you balance traditional stories with your contemporary art style?
A. As a contemporary artist, I’m interested in building a bridge between the spirit of the past and the world we live in today. I don’t claim ownership over traditional stories, they’re not mine to reinterpret freely but I deeply respect their essence. Through my art, I aim to honour those foundations and carry their energy forward in a way that speaks to now.

I might use certain shapes, pathways, or colours that
come from traditional visual language, but I bring them together in ways that feel expressive, open, and current.
It’s not about changing the story, it’s about keeping its heartbeat alive. If someone sees one of my pieces and
it sparks curiosity, connection, or even a deeper sense
of belonging especially if it’s their first time engaging
with Indigenous art or culture, then I feel I’ve found the right balance.

Q. Can you tell us about the Saltwater people of Bundjalung Country and what that means to you?
A. Saltwater people, within the Bundjalung Nation,
are those whose lives, culture, and identity are deeply  

connected to contours, river systems, elevation geography, it’s a way of being. The sea and waterways are part of our kinship system. They hold stories, they carry spirit, and they’ve sustained our communities for thousands of years.

For Saltwater people, knowledge is passed down through our relationship with the water, when to fish, where to gather, how to read the tides and stars. It shapes our ceremonies, our songs, our stories, and our responsibilities to care for Country. The saltwater itself is living
and sacred.

Being Saltwater Bundjalung means understanding that connection isn’t symbolic – it’s cultural, spiritual, and practical. It defines how we move through the world, how we care for our environment, and how we continue to
teach our young people. It’s a strong identity rooted in custodianship, resilience, and belonging.

Q. How do the ancient songlines influence your artwork?
A. Songlines are ancestral pathways that carry knowledge across Country, connecting places through story, song, and memory. They’re how culture, law, and land stay connected through generations.

In my work, I draw on the feeling and movement of songlines not by recreating them, but by interpreting
their flow through layered marks, textures, and aerial perspectives. My style reflects how stories travel: across terrain, through time, and into the present. It’s about honouring those lines while giving them space to breathe in a contemporary way.

Q. How do you feel and what do you think about when you’re painting?
A. Painting puts me in a space where everything slows down. It’s a deep sense of calm; almost like a trance.
To be honest, my mind switches to autopilot. I’m not overthinking or planning, I’m just present. Sometimes
it feels like I’ve been there before, like the work already exists and I’m just uncovering it. The shapes, the lines,
the flow, they come from somewhere deeper. It’s intuitive, almost ancestral, and that’s when I know I’m connected
to something bigger than myself.

Q. You have collaborated with some well-known brands
in Australia, what moments stand out the most?
A. Honestly, every time I get the opportunity to collaborate with a new brand, it’s a standout moment. I never take it for granted. Sharing culture is what lights me up and when large brands choose to support and highlight Indigenous voices, it helps create real visibility. It’s not just representation, it’s a step toward cultural understanding and respect.

What makes it even more meaningful is when those collaborations also support community. Working with brands that give back to education, literacy, or Indigenous-led initiatives adds purpose beyond the artwork. That’s when it feels like more than a partnership, it feels like positive change.

Q. How do you balance earthy coastal tones with vibrant colours, what do these colours symbolise to you?
A. Colour is a powerful communicator, it shapes how we feel, how we connect. I often compare modern interior trends to traditional pigments like ochre, and that’s why most of my work is grounded in earthy tones. They reflect the landscape, the coastline, and the natural materials our ancestors used colours that carry history.

But I also love weaving in vibrant hues, tones that bring energy, movement, and emotion. For me, the balance between earthy and bright reflects culture itself: strong

and grounded, but also evolving, expressive, and full of life. Our stories don’t stand still – they grow, adapt, and thrive. Colour helps me tell that story, and more importantly, it helps people feel it.

Q. Are there any hobbies or interests that inspire your work outside of art?
A. Spending time outdoors is a big one, walking along the coast and spending time in nature. That’s where ideas often come from, especially when I’m not trying too hard. Honestly, conversations with family and community are a constant source of inspiration. Listening, learning, that’s all part of creating.

Q. Do you have any favourite places on Bundjalung Country where you like to spend time?
A. There are many places across Bundjalung Country that hold deep meaning, but I especially feel connected to the coastline at Fingal and Rainbow Bay. The saltwater, the headlands, the places where sea meets land, they carry the energy of the old people.

I often return to those spots when I need clarity or when I’m beginning a new work. Being on Country, in stillness, helps me listen. Those places don’t just inspire, they remind me of where I come from and why I create.

Q. What is your favourite piece you’ve created so far,
and why?
A. I get asked this a lot, but the truth is I don’t have a favourite. It’s like choosing a favourite child. Each piece holds a different story, a different feeling, a different moment in time. Some are more personal, some are created for community, and others have challenged me
in new ways.

What matters most is the connection people feel when they see the work. If a piece speaks to someone makes them pause, reflect, or feel closer to culture, that’s what makes it special. So instead of picking a favourite, I’m proud of the journey each one represents.