Mimi

Spindly, thin spirits who are so fragile they can only come out when there is no wind, for fear their brittle bones might snap like dry twigs. They are the ones who taught the people how to paint, how to hunt, and how to prepare the lily-roots, living in the cracks of the rocks where the sun cannot reach. Why do we think we are the first artists when the walls were already decorated by the long-fingered ones before we arrived? They are the mischievous teachers of the Arnhem Land, the playful shadows who disappear at the first sign of a breeze.