The Wanderer and 3 Goanna

From Bambi of the Jukurrpa, a retelling of the old maid and three bears fairytale transliterated into a Warlpiri Dreamtime context in the Tanami Desert.

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How can we, like Jupurrurla, balance our curiosity with respect for the boundaries of others and our environment, making amends when needed to strengthen our communities and honor our shared heritage? Like comment and subscribe. I read all comments

English Folk Song: The Wanderer and the Three Goannas
Lyrics (Based on the Warlpiri Story):
(Verse 1)
In the Tanami’s glow, where the spinifex sways,
Jupurrurla roamed through the desert’s warm days.
Her curious heart found a camp in the shade,
Where three goannas’ coolamons a feast had arrayed.
(Chorus)
Oh, the wanderer bold, ‘neath the starlit sky’s gleam,
Met the three goannas in the Desert’s dream.
With a heart full of truth, she learned to amend,
Wove the land and its kin in a song without end.
(Verse 2)
Father’s tomatoes sharp, Mother’s ants far too sweet,
But Little Goanna’s wattle warmed her heart’s beat.
On their mats she tried rest—too rough, then too slick—
Till the small one’s weave held her dreams soft and quick.
(Chorus)
Oh, the wanderer bold, ‘neath the starlit sky’s gleam,
Met the three goannas in the Desert’s dream.
With a heart full of truth, she learned to amend,
Wove the land and its kin in a song without end.
(Verse 3)
Goannas returned, with their eyes like a spark,
Hissed at empty bowls, sniffed mats touched in the dark.
Jupurrurla fled, but the Emu’s call led,
Back to bring gifts where the firelight spread.
(Chorus)
Oh, the wanderer bold, ‘neath the starlit sky’s gleam,
Met the three goannas in the Desert’s dream.
With a heart full of truth, she learned to amend,
Wove the land and its kin in a song without end.
(Bridge)
With quandong and weave, she sought peace for her wrong,
Shared their fire’s warm tales where the stars sing along.
In the Tanami’s heart, where the Ancestors roam,
Respect builds the ties that will call us all home.
(Chorus)
Oh, the wanderer bold, ‘neath the starlit sky’s gleam,
Met the three goannas in the Desert’s dream.
With a heart full of truth, she learned to amend,
Wove the land and its kin in a song without end.
(Outro)
Sing by the fire, where the desert stars soar,
Of Jupurrurla’s heart and the truths that she bore.
For a curious soul, when it honors the land,
Binds the camp as one in the Tanami’s sand.
Title: The Wanderer and the Three Goannas
In the heart of the Tanami Desert, where the sun paints the earth in hues of ochre and flame, the spinifex grasses sway like embers caught in a dreaming wind. Stars pulse overhead, stitching the night sky into a tapestry of ancestral tales. Here, a young Warlpiri woman, Jupurrurla, wandered with a spirit as restless as a desert zephyr. Her bare feet whispered across red dunes, leaving delicate tracks that the wind would soon erase. Guided by curiosity and the faint hum of the land’s heartbeat, she sought respite from the sun’s relentless glare, her kangarooskin bag slung lightly over her shoulder.
Deep within a mulga grove, where twisted branches cast shadows that danced like the spirits of the Jukurrpa (Dreamtime), Jupurrurla stumbled upon a hidden camp. The air was thick with the scent of eucalyptus and the faint tang of bush tucker. This was the home of three goannas, sacred creatures of the desert, each as distinct as the land’s own moods. Jungarrayi, the Father Goanna, bore scales tough as weathered mulga bark, his broad tail carving furrows in the sand as he moved with the weight of ancient wisdom. Nungarrayi, the Mother Goanna, shimmered sleek as moonlight rippling across a desert waterhole, her eyes sharp with the knowledge of survival. Jampijinpa, the Little Goanna, darted with the spry energy of a flickering flame, his tiny claws etching playful patterns in the dust.
At the camp’s heart stood three coolamons, carved from mulga wood and brimming with bush tucker, each reflecting the goannas’ essence. Jupurrurla, her stomach growling like distant thunder, peered into the first. Jungarrayi’s coolamon overflowed with bush tomatoes, their pungent aroma stinging her nose like smoke from a toohot fire. She tasted one, but its sharpness bit her tongue, and she winced, setting it aside. Nungarrayi’s coolamon held honey ants, their swollen bodies glistening like amber beads. Jupurrurla sucked one, but its richness coated her throat, too heavy for her parched spirit. Then she came to Jampijinpa’s coolamon, filled with wattle seed paste, sweet and nutty, as soothing as a lullaby sung by the wind. She ate her fill, the paste grounding her under the starwoven canopy, each bite a gift from the land.
Nearby, three woven mats lay spread beneath the mulga’s dappled shade, inviting rest. Jungarrayi’s mat, woven from coarse spinifex, pricked Jupurrurla’s skin like a warning from the desert itself. She tried Nungarrayi’s, crafted from slippery river grasses, but it slid beneath her, unsteady as a mirage. Jampijinpa’s mat, however, was soft as the fine dust that blankets the Tanami after a rare rain, its weave cradling her like the arms of her kin. Exhausted, Jupurrurla sank into its embrace, her dreams swirling with visions of the Emu Ancestor striding across the dunes, her footsteps shaping the land.
As twilight painted the sky in purples and golds, the goannas returned, their claws scraping the earth in a rhythm that echoed the corroboree’s sacred beat. Jungarrayi’s deep hiss rumbled like a storm brewing beyond the horizon as he saw his coolamon, its bush tomatoes scattered, the wood licked clean. “Who has touched my tucker?” he growled, his tail thrashing, stirring red dust into clouds. Nungarrayi, her tongue flicking like lightning, circled her mat, now rumpled and streaked with sand. “Who has disturbed my rest?” she murmured, her voice smooth but edged with warning. Jampijinpa, his bright eyes darting, scampered to his coolamon and mat, letting out a sharp chirp that pierced the dusk. “Someone’s eaten my paste! Someone’s slept on my mat!” he cried, his tail twitching like a spark.
The sound woke Jupurrurla, her heart pounding like a clapstick against a boomerang. She leapt up, eyes wide as the goannas loomed, their silhouettes towering against the firelit mulga. Jungarrayi’s scales glinted like armor, Nungarrayi’s gaze pinned her like a hunter’s spear, and Jampijinpa’s chirps buzzed with indignation. Fear surged through Jupurrurla, her breath catching like wind trapped in a gorge. Without a word, she bolted, her feet flying over the dunes, the spinifex clawing at her legs. The goannas did not pursue, but their presence lingered, heavy as the desert’s silence.
As she ran, the stars seemed to dim, and Jupurrurla’s heart ached with shame. Had she dishonored the land’s keepers? Just as despair tightened its grip, a soft whisper brushed her ear—the voice of the Emu Ancestor, carried on the breeze. “Child of the desert, learn from your steps. The land gives, but you must give back.” Guided by the ancestor’s words, Jupurrurla found her way to her people’s camp, where firelight flickered and laughter wove through the night. She confessed her tale to her elders, their faces lined with the wisdom of countless Dreamings. They nodded, not in anger, but with the quiet expectation of amends.
The next dawn, Jupurrurla returned to the mulga grove, her bag heavy with gifts. In one hand, she carried a coolamon brimming with ripe quandong, their tart sweetness a treasure of the Tanami. In the other, she held a headband woven from desert grasses and dyed with ochre, its patterns telling of respect and kinship. Standing before the goannas’ camp, she called softly, her voice trembling but clear. “Jungarrayi, Nungarrayi, Jampijinpa, I am Jupurrurla, who took without asking. I bring gifts to honor you and the land that binds us.”
The goannas emerged, their movements deliberate, their eyes glinting like opals in the morning light. Jungarrayi tasted the quandong, his rumble softening to a hum of approval. Nungarrayi ran her claws over the headband, her tail curling with quiet pleasure. Jampijinpa, ever lively, scampered forward, chirping as he accepted a small quandong, his delight as bright as the sun’s first rays. Under the mulga’s shade, they invited Jupurrurla to sit by their fire, where sparks rose like stars returning to the sky. They shared stories—of the Jukurrpa, of the goannas who carved waterholes with their tails, of the wanderers who learned to walk lightly on the land.
Jupurrurla’s tale became a Warlpiri song, sung by campfires across the Tanami, its melody weaving through the spinifex like a river. It taught that curiosity is the spark of a seeker’s heart, but it must bow to the land’s boundaries. It spoke of amends, of gifts that mend what was broken, and of kinship forged stronger than the stars’ eternal dance. And in the mulga grove, the three goannas listened, their claws tracing patterns in the dust, guardians of a desert that holds its stories close.
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Here are suggested images to visually complement the song, capturing its themes, setting, and narrative inspired by the Tanami Desert and Indigenous Australian storytelling:
1. **Tanami Desert Landscape at Sunset (Verse 1)**
- **Description**: A vibrant, wide-angle view of the Tanami Desert with golden-red sand dunes and scattered spinifex grass under a glowing sunset sky. The horizon shimmers with warm hues of orange and pink, evoking the "Tanami’s glow."
- **Details**: Include subtle tracks in the sand to hint at Jupurrurla’s wandering, with a distant silhouette of a lone figure walking.
- **Mood**: Serene, expansive, and warm, reflecting the desert’s beauty and vastness.
2. **Goanna Camp Scene (Verse 1)**
- **Description**: A shaded desert camp under a cluster of acacia trees, with three coolamons (traditional wooden vessels) filled with colorful foods like bush tomatoes, wattle seeds, and honey ants. Three goannas, stylized with earthy tones, are gathered around a small fire.
- **Details**: Emphasize texture—woven mats, rough bark, and the goannas’ scaly skin. Include Jupurrurla peeking curiously from behind a tree.
- **Mood**: Cozy, inviting, with a touch of mystery and discovery.
3. **Starlit Desert Sky (Chorus)**
- **Description**: A nighttime scene with a deep indigo sky filled with bright, twinkling stars over the desert. Silhouettes of spinifex and low shrubs dot the foreground, with Jupurrurla sitting cross-legged, gazing upward.
- **Details**: Add a faint glow of a campfire to suggest storytelling and connection to the "starlit sky’s gleam." Incorporate subtle constellation patterns inspired by Indigenous star lore.
- **Mood**: Dreamy, spiritual, and reflective, tying to the "Desert’s dream."
4. **Close-Up of Food and Mats (Verse 2)**
- **Description**: A detailed still life of the goannas’ offerings—bush tomatoes (sharp red), honey ants (glistening amber), and wattle seed paste (golden-brown) in coolamons. Nearby, three woven mats vary in texture: one rough, one glossy, and one soft and intricate (Little Goanna’s).
- **Details**: Highlight the tactile contrast of the mats and the vivid colors of the bush foods. Jupurrurla’s hand reaches gently toward the wattle.
- **Mood**: Intimate, sensory, and grounded, emphasizing the trial-and-error of finding balance.
5. **Goannas’ Return and Confrontation (Verse 3)**
- **Description**: A tense moment as the three goannas, with piercing, spark-like eyes, inspect their camp at dusk. Empty coolamons and disturbed mats are scattered. Jupurrurla is seen fleeing into the distance, with an emu’s silhouette faintly visible against the horizon.
- **Details**: Use dramatic lighting with the fire casting long shadows. The goannas’ expressions mix suspicion and curiosity.
- **Mood**: Suspenseful yet hopeful, hinting at the coming resolution.
6. **Reconciliation by the Fire (Bridge)**
- **Description**: A warm, communal scene at night with Jupurrurla and the goannas gathered around a crackling fire. Jupurrurla offers a woven basket of quandong fruits and a woven mat as gifts. The goannas appear calm, their eyes softened.
- **Details**: Include storytelling elements—perhaps faint, dreamlike Ancestor figures in the smoke or stars. The Tanami’s sand glitters faintly around them.
- **Mood**: Healing, harmonious, and connected, reflecting respect and peace.
7. **Jupurrurla’s Final Song (Outro)**
- **Description**: A stylized, panoramic image of Jupurrurla standing on a desert rise, singing under a soaring, star-filled sky. Her figure is surrounded by faint, glowing outlines of goannas, emus, and desert plants, symbolizing her unity with the land.
- **Details**: Use flowing, almost painterly lines to suggest the "song without end," with colors blending the reds of the desert and blues of the night sky.
- **Mood**: Uplifting, timeless, and deeply spiritual, celebrating connection to land and kin.
**General Notes**:
- **Art Style**: Consider a blend of realistic desert elements with subtle, Indigenous-inspired dot painting or linework to honor the cultural context without appropriating sacred symbols.
- **Color Palette**: Warm earth tones (reds, ochres, browns) for the desert, contrasted with cool blues and purples for the night sky and spiritual elements.
- **Cultural Sensitivity**: Avoid depicting sacred symbols or Dreamtime stories directly unless explicitly appropriate. Focus on the narrative’s universal themes of respect, learning, and connection to nature.
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Here’s a concise point summary of *The Story of the Three Bears* (traditional, formalized by Robert Southey in 1837, pre-Goldilocks version):
- **Setting**: A house in the woods inhabited by three bears: Great Bear, Middle Bear, and Little Bear.
- **Intruder**: An unnamed old woman enters the bears’ home while they’re out.
- **Exploration**: She tries their porridge (hot, cold, just right), chairs (hard, soft, breaks one), and beds (hard, soft, just right).
- **Discovery**: The bears return, notice disturbances, and find the woman in Little Bear’s bed.
- **Outcome**: The woman wakes, is frightened, and escapes by jumping out the window; her fate is left ambiguous.
- **Key Theme**: Consequences of trespassing and meddling with others’ belongings.
Note: This version predates the later Goldilocks adaptation, featuring an old woman instead of a young girl.