Some places stay with you long after you’ve left, and Northern Territory’s Arnhem Land is one of those places.
I travelled to West Arnhem Land in May, as both an experience host and attendee. As Founder of The Homestead Hub, I was hosting our 2026 Creatives Camp, and as the Milliner on the Move I was there for something entirely different, I was there to soak it all in – to explore, observe, and to fill my creative cup.
What I probably didn’t expect was just how full that cup would become.
Our small group of seven gathered in Darwin before boarding our charter flight bound for Davidson’s Arnhem Land Safaris at Mount Borradaile, and even before we landed on the dirt strip, we all knew we were heading into somewhere special. The morning was wrapped in fog, but through the breaks we could glimpse a landscape unlike anything we’d seen before and from the moment we arrived, we were immersed and we were IN.
The accommodation was perfect, the food was exceptional and the hospitality was the absolute best, but it was the country itself that was next level, and completely captured me.
I arrived with a wish list – I wanted to see crocodiles, buffalo and rock art. I wanted to fish for barramundi and I wanted to experience a part of Australia that few people ever get to see.
What I wasn’t prepared for was the sheer scale of the Aboriginal rock art.
Gallery after gallery, story upon story and layer upon layer – ancient narratives sitting beside and beneath newer ones, each generation adding its own mark to the rock.
I’d never seen anything like it.
Every time I thought we’d reached the highlight of the day, another gallery would appear around the corner – and another, and then another.
Many of the artworks are believed to date back tens of thousands upon thousands of years, and standing amongst them, it was impossible not to feel humbled by the history, the culture and the stories that have been carried through generations.
One group of figures in particular stopped me in my tracks and these were the Weaving Women. There was something about them that drew me in immediately – not sure if it was because as a maker myself, I felt a connection, or if it was the storytelling – or perhaps it was simply their presence. Whatever it was, I kept going back to them – they stayed with me, and are still with me.
The rock art was extraordinary, and the landscapes surrounding it were equally inspiring.
The walks to each gallery took us through some of the most remarkable country I’ve ever experienced, and the colours blew my creative mind – the ochre shades of pinks and purples – soft sandstone and dark ironstone – colours were layered together in ways that I couldn’t wait to replicate.
Everywhere I looked, I saw millinery designs, but it wasn’t just the flowers and grasses that caught my eye, it was the root systems. Ancient pandanus and fig tree roots twisting through rock faces as though they were holding the entire landscape together. Some looked like giant hula skirts, others appeared to be climbing the escarpments themselves. I found them completely mesmerising and I already know they’ll influence my designs … in ways I don’t yet fully know.
To the left of me were ancient cycads reaching from rocky outcrops, to the right – grasses glowing in flickers of light, and before me – wildflowers in full bloom.
All around me were textures, patterns and shapes – my creative brain was in overdrive.
Some days we climbed high onto escarpments and looked out across endless Arnhem Land country stretching to the horizon, and other times we squeezed through caves where standing upright wasn’t even possible.
We lay on the ground in these caves, looking upwards, discovering artwork above us that had survived for generations upon generations.
At the point where our Guide told us to stop and look up – I found myself staring at the Rainbow Serpent and I was genuinely stuck in my tracks.
Throughout the entire experience we were closely accompanied by our guide, Cam, whose role extended far beyond navigation and safety and making sure we understood the significance of what we were seeing, respectfully and appropriately – Cam went over and above repairing shoes and cuts and grazes, carrying packs of snacks, baiting our hooks, and even filling our glass (on the final night sunset cruise) ..
On our boat rides, beautiful water lilies floated across the surface of the waterways, while buffalo rest in the distance and ancient crocodiles lay on the banks nearby. It was like beauty and the beast sharing the same landscape – delicate, pretty flowers and prehistoric predators, hanging out side by side.
Every night, I’d return to my room after the day’s adventure and evening meal (which was another outstanding multiple course of deliciousness) – completely forgetting to sit down and sketch.
I’d packed my sketchbook with every intention of filling pages but I never opened it – not once – there simply wasn’t time.
Every day presented another extraordinary landscape, another gallery, another story …the inspiration was arriving faster than I could process it, so instead, I filled my camera and phone with photographs and trusted that the ideas would find their way back to me later.
And they have – now that I’m home, the memories are beginning to settle.
The colours, textures, grasses, ancient plants, rock formations – the cave openings that framed the landscape like living works of art.
The Weaving Women, the Rainbow Serpent and the feeling of standing on top of an escarpment looking out across country that has remained largely unchanged for thousands of years.
All of this and more is finding its way into my next collection – I don’t yet know exactly what each piece will become, but what I do know is that Arnhem Land has left its mark.
This collection won’t simply be inspired by a destination – it will be inspired by a feeling .. of awe and connection – of standing in one of Australia’s most extraordinary places and being reminded just how much beauty there is when we slow down long enough to truly see it.
And for that, I’ll be forever grateful.
On the last evening we watched the sun set as we turned the boat towards home. The sky changed colour, the moon rose behind Mount Borradaile, – we drifted past water lilies, birdlife filled the wetlands and crocodiles watched us from the banks – it was like Arnhem Land saved one final show for us before we left.
I came home with literally hundreds of photographs, thousands of ideas and not a single sketch.
I’ve been continuously scrolling through my photos of rock art, root systems, grasses, caves, escarpments and ancient plants, trying to understand why Arnhem Land has affected me so deeply.
And I think I’ve finally worked it out – it wasn’t just one thing, it was everything.
The stories carved by stone and painted onto stone, the stories told by root systems that have spent decades finding their way through rock. The stories carried by plants, grasses, colours and landscapes that have existed long before any of us got here.
As a milliner, I’m always searching for stories to tell through my work.
Arnhem Land reminded me that the best stories are discovered patiently, respectfully and slowly.
The collection that will emerge from this journey won’t be a literal interpretation of what I saw, it will be my response to how it felt.
I’ll introduce you to the exposed roots that danced like hula skirts beneath pandanus trees and the ancient cycads standing proudly amongst the stone, and the prettiest lilies on the waters; the charcoal, ochre, sandstone, pinks and moss-green colour palettes and you’ll most definitely see the layering, and the textures created by time.
The vastness, the wonder and the feeling of being incredibly tiny in a landscape that was endless and timeless.
Arnhem Land didn’t give me a collection, it gave me something much more valuable which was reminding me how to see – which is actually, what these Creatives Camps are all about.
Arnhem Land has followed me home and it’s unsettled me, creatively, in the best possible way.
If you’re lucky enough to visit this part of the world one day, you’ll understand exactly what I mean.
And if you’re not, then perhaps through this collection I can bring a small piece of that extraordinary place to you – one story at a time.
I can’t wait to create!
Till then ..
x flic
Milliner on the Move 