GEDYURA, the Anaiwan word for woman, honours an unnamed Aboriginal gedyura's act of frontier resistance on Anaiwan Country. This work, a rifle woven from lomandra with an accompanying video, centres on a historical fragment: a newspaper clipping describing an armed Aboriginal gedyura leading men blamed for raiding stations in New England.

The weaving process connects me to her legacy, challenging the erasure of Aboriginal women's resistance in colonial narratives. This meditative practice transforms a symbol of colonial violence into a testament to Indigenous survivance, the conjunction between resistance and survival.

Strong kinship, a powerful weapon passed down by my matriarchs, is woven into this work. My family witness to the making process and my sibling's presence in the video - my mother's sister's child who shares my skin - embody this kinship. It's evident in the collaborative process: weaving the rifle in the homes of my irbelas (mother, mother's sisters) and bawas (sisters), their participation ensures this story's preservation extends beyond me to our entire family, reflecting the communal nature of our cultural knowledge.

The video doesn't simply retell the gedyura's story, but rather engages with it in a non-linear dialogue, subverting the colonial gaze to offer intimacy and authenticity that colonial accounts lack. By emulating the unnamed gedyura’s movements, as described in the newspaper clipping, I invite the audience to see the duality at play: past and present, violence and creation, colonial narratives and Indigenous knowing.

As an Anaiwan gedyura raised by matriarchs, I see our reflection in her. This work honours her resistance, connecting past and present in a testament to our enduring strength.