Australian prints at the British Museum

Australia is such an inspiring place - the flora, the immense landscapes, the light, the colours, but also the sounds of birdsong, the smell of eucalyptus, that edginess that comes from the recognition that nature is so much greater in all senses than us little humans.

I have always found the works of Aborigine artists so powerful - they are tuned in to the natural rhythms, and you can feel that connectedness. They demand attention, wanting to communicate their meanings with such all-consuming intention. I feel inadequate because I don't understand, but I so want to! How much we have forgotten in our race to protect ourselves from nature's forces.

Even something as simple as Dorothy Napangardi's crossed lines of dots is so much more than just that. If I did rows of dots they'd be lifeless, but you follow hers as if they were waymarks on a footpath. This image is of a painting in acrylic, whereas the British Museum had a different print, but the overall effect was similar.

I was also taken by Fred Williams work, and even though he's not an indigenous Aussie, he's let the land speak to him. I'd seen some of his work before in Australia, and it's interesting how at a certain point he suddenly starts responding to the landscape with small caligraphic marks representing the sparse vegetation.