Rick Roser

I was born in Zillmere, Brisbane in the middle of last century,  grew up with my younger brother and three sisters travelling and working beside our parents in the 60's as field workers in rural and Nth.Queensland. 

 
Dad made and used anything that worked to get food, preferring quiet methods...nets, traps, good old back of the axe... rifles were everywhere but the bullets were expensive, dangerous and noisy. 

In the camps, when I was growing up, spears and sticks were still used frequently by kids and adults...and still are today. Many people still hunted as a necessity in those days and bushcraft was always a fair percentage of the conversation.

Of course I had to be one of those kids always interested and willing to learn and I got good at hunting and finding food..being constantly hungry probably helped.

We more or less grew up on the Bruce Highway and out West, lived in fringe camps and settlements all over the place. ... my father, Indigenous, ex-serviceman in the Air Force, who became a vocal active opponent of the state and federal laws on aboriginal issues my mother was a red haired very outspoken feminist.

There was us - 5 kids, a big old car and caravan, an uncle and 2 dogs...and we worked tobacco and peas, stick picking and weeding. 

Us kids were often employed as a team and made a dollar each a day no worries, almost an adult woman's pay in some places...and one of the reasons my mother became more and more involved in women's rights issues.

We were never settled... or welcome anywhere for long, and we liked it that way and would move at the drop of a hat...sometimes dad would drive hundreds of miles overnight, towing the van, us all singing along, quite a feat in the 60's...

There must have been a lot of work on the land back then because our parents could count on getting work at almost any farm out in the sticks ... those old cocky-farmers would jump out when they saw us and point to a paddock filled with old tree roots and sticks or overgrown with scrub...or bloody pumpkins...and throw in tucker that night..

Later, after a disastrous fire we moved to Brisbane. In the city, and with such wild 5 kids as us, my parents did it tough and gradually they began to drift apart and they became more involved and active in Aboriginal and Feminist issues.

I turned 21 hand mining for sapphires and lived with my wife and son in a tin shack (that she built) I should have stayed there but we too split up.
I drifted to the politics of the time which cost me dearly......I saw it first hand - serious obstacles and really cruel penalties applied to Indigenous people and denial of basic human rights. Many of our friends did not survive.

We kids were the first of our family who could pass as white but no way could we stomach the prevailing attitudes, the joke one was expected to join in, the language, ruthless, abhorrent, horrible...  and right from childhood we were an Aboriginal family.
Hard for any non-white migrants too. 
And it was very, very dangerous to protest… 

A special mention must be made to those courageous, staunch friends of Aboriginal people dating right back to before 1770.

Anyway my life continues and I still  travel and work. I have been lucky, my art has been collected by many big galleries and collections... and over 5 decades as a Fire Maker opening and closing events around the world and workshops in schools around Australia.

...PLUS!!  I have met so  many marvellous people, Principals, producers, teachers, kids.
The greatest fun and with plenty of adventures...thank you.. 

In my younger and pre-covid days, apart from a lot of bush time in Queensland, Australia, I have had the opportunity to travel and work overseas. And I used those overseas gigs as an excuse to travel all over the place ... and managed see most of the continents..from Hadrians Wall.... to the Great Wall

Followed a bit of the Silk Road from the Terracotta warriors at Zian and down to Africa .... shouted "There it is! " at Loch Ness.... night train to Venice, fish on the Bosphorus.
And Japans cherry blossoms really are beautiful, English pubs really are tiny, with dates like 1520 scrawled on the walls, huge fig trees do grow out of the walls at Angkor Wat and we all saw the Min Min that night.

Lit candles before Reclining Budda.

Looked for Troy, had a coupla Gondola rides...seen the Eiffel tower from every angle,  and stood where Good King Wencelaus's once looked out...

churches lined with GOLD... Mosque and Palaces, Temples, Dragon ships and bloody great big stone feet........Floated down rivers...Yellow River, Mekong, the Nile, Thames...North Pine... yeah and I've cried a river too...

Blessed to have woken up beside the Pyramids... and Uluru.

Held my ground crossing the Tiber and the Nullabour, seen the Morning Glory cross over the N.T. visited the Forbidden City...the Hidden city, the Red City, the Lost City... the Eternal City...the Big Smoke..

Gazed at the Pharaohs' empty tomb. 
... gaped open mouthed at the Devil Devil of Waddawadaalla....

and Kata Tjuta.

Visited every Gallery and Arts space I could in between.........!!

And I'd do it all again (maybe a bit different)