Makinti Napanangka made this painting, My Country, with acrylic on linen. Look at the way she builds up these fields of colour through rhythmic lines. It’s not just about representing a place, but about the doing, the making. There is something wonderfully raw about the surface. The ochres and purples seem to vibrate against each other. I love the imperfect lines, like the wavering stripes in the upper left. It’s like the paint is breathing. Those dots too, in the brown area, with halos of yellow. They have this kind of luminous presence, floating on the surface, not quite belonging. Napanangka reminds me of Hilma af Klint, both searching for ways to visualize inner landscapes. Ultimately, art is a conversation, a way of seeing and feeling that has no final answers.