You know that specific feeling when you stand at the edge of the ocean? That split second where the noise of the city drops away, and it’s just the roar of the Pacific and the smell of salt? That is exactly what happens when I look at Holly Sanders’ work.
I first stumbled onto her art by accident. I was doom-scrolling late one night, eyes tired from endless grey text, when this explosion of pink ochre and saltwater blue hit my screen. It stopped me dead. It didn’t look like just another digital print; it felt like a place. It felt like the Northern Rivers.
Holly Sanders isn’t just making things look pretty. As a proud Bundjalung woman, she’s taking the oldest stories on earth and translating them for a world that has largely forgotten how to listen to the land. She bridges the gap between ancient history and modern aesthetics without breaking a sweat.
Also Read: Olivia Ortz and Connie Perdigon
Key Takeaways
- Roots run deep: Holly Sanders creates art strictly connected to her Bundjalung heritage, focusing on the specific landscapes of Northern NSW.
- More than paint: Her work is a vehicle for “Women’s Business,” carrying stories of gathering, weaving, and survival.
- Tech meets tradition: She uses iPads and digital tools to keep ancient culture evolving, proving tradition isn’t stuck in the past.
- Activism is key: You can’t separate the art from the message—she demands respect for Country and the environment.
- Ethical buying: Her collaborations allow us to bring Indigenous stories home, provided we buy from authentic sources.
Who is Holly Sanders and why does her heritage define the canvas?
You cannot separate the artist from the dirt she walks on. For Sanders, being a Bundjalung woman isn’t a footnote in her bio; it is the engine running the whole operation. She grew up on Bundjalung Country, and you can tell. She didn’t learn these shapes in a textbook. She absorbed them.
I often think we get lazy with how we look at landscapes. We see a “view.” Sanders sees a relationship. When she paints the sand dunes or the coastal scrub, she isn’t just documenting scenery. She’s mapping her home.
This heritage brings a heavy responsibility. In her culture, art is a deed of title. It’s a language. By picking up her stylus, Sanders asserts that her people are still here, still telling stories, and still caretaking the land. It’s a powerful reminder that Bundjalung history didn’t stop when Captain Cook showed up. It’s living right now.
How does the ocean actually shape her storytelling?
The ocean is volatile. It changes color every hour. Sanders nails this. You won’t find the harsh reds of the central desert in her main portfolio. Instead, you get the salt. You get the “Saltwater Country.”
I get lost in the lines of her work because they move like the tide. They mimic the flow of estuaries and rivers that crisscross Northern NSW. Water is life—it’s a cliché because it’s true, but Sanders makes you feel the weight of it.
She depicts these waterways not just as blue lines on a map, but as sources of food and spirit. In a time where we constantly hear about water shortages and climate disasters, looking at her work feels like a wake-up call. It forces a tough question: Do we respect these waters, or do we just use them?
What is ‘Women’s Business’ and why is she so fierce about it?
This part gets me every time. A huge chunk of Aboriginal art deals with “Women’s Business”—rituals, gathering knowledge, and stories that belong specifically to women. Sanders honors her matriarchal line with absolute reverence.
She paints weaving. A lot. Even on a flat canvas or a digital screen, she manages to replicate the texture of woven baskets. These aren’t just baskets; they are survival. They represent the hands of her mother and grandmother gathering food and holding the community together.
It makes me think about my own family. What have we kept? What did we let fade? Sanders refuses to let the knowledge fade. She depicts women as the backbone of the community, sturdy like the Banksia pods she loves to draw.
Can an iPad really carry the weight of ancient tradition?
Here is where purists get annoyed, and where Sanders proves them wrong. Can you create ancient art on a tablet? Sanders says yes. She moves between canvas and digital illustration without losing a single ounce of soul.
I’ve heard people argue that digital art lacks “spirit.” That is nonsense. Look at her prints. The protocols are there. The stories are there. The intent is rock solid.
- Precision: Digital tools let her get lines cleaner than a razor, making the colors pop on fabric in a way paint sometimes can’t.
- Reach: By going digital, she puts Bundjalung stories on gym tights, tote bags, and earrings.
- Evolution: Culture that doesn’t evolve dies. Sanders is proving Indigenous art belongs in the tech age.
She uses technology as a megaphone. It allows her to collaborate with big brands and get these stories in front of people who would never step foot in a stuffy art gallery.
Why is her color palette so soft but the message so strong?
Sanders is a master of color. If you close your eyes and picture “Aboriginal Art,” you might think of traditional ochre and black. Sanders flips the script. She uses a palette I’d call “coastal feminine.”
We are talking dusty pinks, sage greens, warm sandy yellows, and crisp whites. It’s inviting. It’s warm. And I think that is a strategic move.
It’s a Trojan Horse. You buy the print because the colors look killer in your living room. But once it’s on the wall, you start learning about the meeting places and the songlines. She hooks you with beauty, then educates you with meaning.
How does she survive the minefield of commercial collaborations?
Making a living as an artist is hard. Making a living as an Indigenous artist without getting ripped off is even harder. We’ve all seen the cheap knock-offs in tourist shops.
Holly Sanders shows everyone else how to do it right. She retains control. When she partners with a brand, she ensures the story travels with the product. I bought a piece of fabric designed by her once, and the tag didn’t just have washing instructions; it had the story of the artwork.
She demands respect. She shows that you can be commercial without selling your soul. For us, the buyers, it’s a lesson in ethics. Check the tag. Google the name. If the artist isn’t involved, put it back on the shelf.
What do those symbols actually mean to a rookie?
To the untrained eye, it might just look like dots and circles. But this is a code. Sanders uses iconography that has existed for millennia.
- The U-Shape: That’s a person sitting. A cluster of them? That’s a meeting.
- Concentric Circles: Usually a campsite, a waterhole, or a meeting place.
- Lines: These are the journeys. The trade routes. The connections between tribes.
When I look at her composition, I see a map of social connection. Nothing stands alone. Everything touches something else. It highlights a worldview where isolation doesn’t exist. Living in a city where we barely know our neighbors, I look at her art and realize what we’re missing.
Does her art actually help nature conservation?
You can’t paint the land with this much love and not want to protect it. Sanders is an environmentalist. Her work celebrates the biodiversity of the coast—the Banksias, the Eucalyptus, the sea creatures.
By painting them, she gives them value. In a world obsessed with concrete, her art is a quiet protest. It screams, “Look at this. It’s worth saving.”
It works, too. After spending time with her art, I catch myself looking at the scrub differently. I notice the seed pods. I notice the changing light. Art changes how you see reality.
Why should we support living artists instead of museums?
There is this weird idea that “real” Aboriginal art is old and hangs in a museum. That view hurts living communities. Holly Sanders is right here, right now. Supporting her puts money directly back into Indigenous families.
It allows culture to be a career, not just a hobby. When we buy a Sanders print, we vote with our wallet. We say, “I value this culture as a modern, living force.”
If you want to make sure you are buying ethical art, check out the Indigenous Art Code. It’s the gold standard for fair trade in this industry.
How does she smash the ‘Dot Painting’ stereotype?
“Dot painting” is a lazy term. It mostly comes from the desert tribes. Sanders is a saltwater woman. While she uses dots, she mixes them with lines and flow that belong to her region.
She uses color blocking. She plays with negative space. She challenges us to stop lumping all Indigenous art into one basket. It’s as diverse as Europe’s art history, and Sanders is carving out her own lane.
Can you really feel the ‘Sand’ and ‘Salt’?
I want to circle back to the texture. Even on an iPad screen, her work feels gritty. You can practically smell the salt spray.
She isn’t painting from a photo. She paints from muscle memory. She knows how the light hits the water at 6 AM. She knows the texture of a Banksia cone. That sensory detail transfers to the viewer. I have a friend who keeps a Sanders print in his office just to calm down. He stares at the blue swirls and breathes. It’s better than therapy.
How do we bring these stories home without being disrespectful?
Nobody wants to be the person who culturally appropriates something by accident. We love the art, but we get nervous. Holly Sanders makes it easy because her work is an invitation. She wants it shared.
But you have to follow the rules:
- Say her name: If someone compliments the art, tell them it’s Holly Sanders, a Bundjalung artist.
- Buy real: Don’t buy the knock-off from a discount bin.
- Know the story: Read the description. Know what is hanging on your wall.
Final Thoughts: The legacy Sanders is building
Holly Sanders is doing a lot more than just making our walls look good. She is documenting the survival of the Bundjalung people. She is teaching us to respect the ecosystem.
Her art captures the vibration of the ground. It reminds me that the earth is alive. Every time I see a new piece from her, I take a breath. I slow down.
In a world that is overly digital and disconnected, Sanders uses digital tools to plug us back into the earth. She brings the salt and the stories into our houses. And honestly? We are lucky to have her.
FAQs – Holly Sanders
Who is Holly Sanders and how does her heritage influence her artwork?
Holly Sanders is a Bundjalung woman whose heritage deeply influences her artwork, which focuses on the landscapes of Northern NSW and incorporates her cultural stories, mapping her home and asserting her people’s ongoing connection to the land.
How does the ocean shape Holly Sanders’ storytelling?
The ocean influences Sanders’ storytelling by inspiring her use of color and movement in her art, depicting waterways as sources of life and spirit, and emphasizing the importance of respecting and protecting these waters.
What is ‘Women’s Business’ in her art, and why is Sanders so dedicated to it?
‘Women’s Business’ refers to rituals, gathering knowledge, and stories specific to women, which Sanders honors through her art by depicting weaving and the community roles of women, emphasizing their vital role in survival and culture.
Can digital tools like an iPad effectively carry ancient traditions, according to Sanders?
Yes, Sanders believes that digital tools can carry ancient traditions by allowing for precise, vibrant, and evolving art that respects the stories and intent behind Indigenous culture, making tradition relevant in the modern tech age.
How does Sanders’ light and color palette impact the message of her artwork?
Sanders’ soft, coastal color palette attracts viewers and draws them into her work, serving as a Trojan Horse that invites beauty first, then educates about the deeper cultural and environmental meanings behind her art.
