Clouds Are The Dust Of His Feet #1

Registration Number
1119-1-1
Maker
Type of Object
Edition
8/8
Medium
pigment print on cotton rag
Collection
Height
120.00cm
Width
82.00cm
When Made
2013
Public Description: 

Bindi Cole Chocka is a Wathaurong woman who lives and works in Melbourne. Clouds Are The Dust Of His Feet #1, was exhibited at Bundoora Homestead's group show Horizons in 2014. It is part of a suite of photographic works that explores the artist's identity, history and faith as she forgives herself and others for past wrongs. The photograph's title is taken from a passage from the Bible (Nahum 1:3): The LORD is slow to anger but great in power; the LORD will not leave the guilty unpunished. His way is in the whirlwind and the storm, and clouds are the dust of his feet.

Cole Chocka says "I used to be a victim of my own life, like everything was everyone else’s fault, building my identity on all the wrongs that had been committed against me. Meanwhile, I had turned into a pretty horrible person, my heart had become hardened and I was living a life of destruction and pain. It was then that I had a revelation. I was living as the victim. In that very moment, I came to a place where I no longer desired justice for what had happened to me, but had realised I needed forgiveness for what I had done and who I had become. From that place, I was able to begin to forgive others. So I chose to forgive".

Clouds Are The Dust Of His Feet #1 © Bindi Cole Chocka.

Makers Statement: 
It still blows my mind that many people think the area now known as Melbourne was uninhabited: that no Aboriginal people lived there. That we all lived in the desert, the hottest, driest, most arid part of the country and conveniently, the lushest, most livable and accessible parts were free for the taking. But it’s cold here in Melbourne, how could we have survived? Well, we made homes and blankets and cloaks and fire, all offering the warmth needed to get through the harsh Melbourne winter. While writing this I felt the pain that this attitude, so embedded into the fabric of our society, creates. It hurts. It omits my ancestors. It omits my culture. It omits my belonging. I used to be a victim of my own life, like everything was everyone else’s fault, building my identity on all the wrongs that had been committed against me. Meanwhile, I had turned into a pretty horrible person, my heart had become hardened and I was living a life of destruction and pain. It was then that I had a revelation. I was living as the victim. In that very moment, I came to a place where I no longer desired justice for what had happened to me, but had realised I needed forgiveness for what I had done and who I had become. From that place, I was able to begin to forgive others. So I chose to forgive. Even as I’m hurt by the attitudes of some people to my history and the history of my ancestors, I’m not going to live as a victim to it. I won’t let it take hold of my heart and mind. I know my truth and I also know that for me to be free of the pain of this attitude, I need to forgive. I’m not forgetting, nor saying that it was right and that it doesn’t hurt but I am saying that I as a broken person requiring forgiveness knows that freedom comes when I also forgive. I forgive you for omitting my history. I forgive you on behalf of my Nanna. I forgive you so that she and I might be free. Bindi Cole, 2012