A whale in a wheat field, a parade of delightful ceramic echidnas as far as the eye could see, fresh crop circles that may or may not have been created by aliens, and some of the finest humans in the biosphere all gathered one long weekend in September in a tiny country town where not much usually happens. The Biosphere Boodja Arts and Wild Things Festival in Goomalling has just happened and I was lucky enough to be there!
The tiny wheatbelt town of Goomalling was the locus for this incredible happening, or ‘creative uprising’. It was the brainchild of Internationally acclaimed Perth ceramic artist and the festival’s creative art director, Fleur Schell, who was born in the wheatbelt town of Goomalling.
She had a dream, or perhaps more of a vision, that she brought to life with some funding from Lottery West, major sponsors, private donors and the local community. Collaborating closely with Ballardong Nyungar Elder Tracy De Grussa and with the local community including primary school children from the two small primary schools in the town and with the Goomalling Op Shop behind her, Goomalling definitely had a happening!
The small town of Goomalling is under two hours northeast of Perth in the Avon Valley and the Western Australian wheatbelt. Like all wheatbelt towns, it’s all about the wheat and it’s the enormous grain storage domes that immediately grab your attention when you drive into town that formed part of Fleur’s vision for the Biosphere Boodja Festival.

The giant spherical silos are pure white and look like something you may find on Mars if the future of life in space ever comes to fruition. When Fleur was a child they were really buried dinosaur eggs. They were also the perfect canvas for the incredible Totem Story projections that were cast that Sunday evening.
As a clay artist Fleur saw an opportunity to invite visiting ceramicists in Perth for ‘Wedge 2025: The Australian Ceramics Triennale in Fremantle’ scheduled for the following weekend in Fremantle. Clay play and ceramics with clay provided by Midland Brick, formed a large part of the festival and the workshops available for festival goers. Throw in some of Perth’s premier musos, a sculpture exhibition in a wheat field, some dancing, yoga and a giant puppet parade and the experience was out of this world.
The festival was free to those who attended ; There were different camping options including glamping and family camping areas. We paid for bush camping on the decidedly rustic golf course. It was close to everything, including a million mosquitoes.


I’m a Tassie girl who grew up in isolated places and went to high school in a small country town so I have a thing for small country towns. While Western Australian wheatbelt towns are a far cry from the lush farming towns in Tasmania there is an essence that spans all country towns and ties them together. That essence is isolation and community.
For me, wheatbelt towns are not comfortably accessible all year round due to the extreme temperatures in summer. Not to someone who likes to spend time outdoors and camping anyways, so I try to get out there as much as I can during the cooler months. There is something magical about wide open spaces, random granite rocks and wheat silos.
This trip was my second foray into the wheatbelt this year; a couple of months prior I went and spent a day and night hanging in the Granite Way at Kwolyin Camp ground and Kokerbin Rock, one of my favourite places to explore. There really is nowhere better for star gazing!
So when Biosphere Boodja came up on my radar, I jumped at the chance, found a festival buddy and headed back into that wheat belt that I just can’t get enough of.



The drive out was ethereal; green wheat fields on either side and the fading flowers of the remaining canola, almost finished flowering. As drifted into towns surrounded by modest hills incredible mists filled the valleys. It was all I could do not to pull over every 10 minutes to take photos.

When I reached Goomalling at 8:30 that morning (yes I had got up very early to leave) I was the first bush camper to roll in and register. We were camping on the golf course and being a dry wheat belt town the golf green was not how you imagine a green in the big city. Nevertheless, they wanted to protect their fairway so we camped in the bush on the side of the daisy-covered fairway with about 10 million mosquitoes.
The town volunteers were all incredibly friendly. They popped me down at the end so I could drive out easily the next day and they saved a space for my friend Elaine who had a rooftop tent. Turns out we were first to arrive and last to leave. That’s how we roll.

I set up camp and Elaine arrived via the Goomalling Op Shop with a trawl of treasures and set up her rooftop, then we set off to explore the town. Right next to the golf course was the wheat field ‘crop circle’ exhibition – literally a wheat field with cleared paths and some incredible sculptural art works, including Fleur Schell’s ‘Wheat Whale’. So we diverted into the field.
The sun was up and the wheat swayed in the soft breeze; quite magical. Next we wandered to the markets and the main oval to see where we could expect to be based for the next couple of days. The markets were a collection of local artists stalls. I made a few small purchases, including a cap printed by a young girl who had created a selection of t-shirts and hats with her designs.





With eats never far from my mind I was happy to note a variety of food trucks and a couple of bars set up on the oval, and we soon found the stage which would be the centre of our weekend escapades, when we weren’t having a drink in the Boodja Bar or the bowls club. I was excited.
We settled in for Aunty Tracy’s Welcome to Country and a string of fabulous Western Australian bands including Lucy Peach and some incredible acts from the area.

The rest of the day was spent wandering about checking out the workshops all facilitated in huge white dome tents not unlike the wheat silos, and pausing for drinks from the comfortable Boodja Bar with Op Shop chairs and cushions, to the Goomalling Bowling Club bar. The rain came but it wasn’t the soaking type so we stayed mostly dry.


We decided a final visit to the town Op Shop was in order, seeing as I hadn’t been yet, and headed into the wide streets of Goomalling for another walk about. The Op Shop was on the main street, just past the hotel, the post office and Bendigo Bank, and it was heaving! Most of the good stuff had been bought up by the bargain-hungry visitors. The Op Shop manager was very happy with her day’s takings declaring it ‘the best day of takings she had ever had.’
I found nothing but enjoyed the browse before we went back to camp to prepare our clothing for the coming evening. Back for another drink or two at the Bowls Club before the children and festival goers began congregating for the puppet parade and song performance by the children.
What followed brought me to tears! The giant paper mache whale and Koomal possum that we had seen sheltered in the tent earlier that day came to life with lights and a group of young people moving their parts as they circled the area in front of the stage accompanied by a drumming group. The children sang a song about the disappearance of the Koomal possum, written by Fleur and then we all set off towards the silos as the sun set and darkness fell.





There was a real sense of being part of something so unique and important as we all stopped in front of the silos and all the lights were extinguished. The Totem Story projected onto those crazy dinosaur eggs and narrated by Aunty Tracy and children was just incredible.
When it finished we all strolled slowly back into town feeling like we had been part of something beautiful. It was clear how much work had gone into every part of the weekend from the involvement of the local schools in the incredible art projects to the local businesses and volunteers who made it all possible.
The remainder of the evening was spent having food and listening to the music by local and Western Australian acts; finishing on a funky note with a boogie to Odette Mercy and the Soul Atomics before we stumbled back to our golf course camp for sleep.

I was woken at 5:00 am by the sound of the hot air balloon that had been sitting on the oval the day before, being inflated on the oval for a sunrise flight; the steady hum of the generator and then the huge huffing sounds of the flame being shot into the full balloon. I just had to get a photo so I braved the mossies and got to the railway line as it lifted into the cloudy skies. I got my pics and climbed back into bed for another hour.

Day two started with a sausage sizzle right outside our tents as the local P & C cooked us up a meaty breakfast of sausages, onions and sauce (onions and sauce for the vegetarians). I scoffed down a sausage but Elaine passed on the onion in a bun. So we dressed and headed into town. It was pretty chill as we found coffee and a space on the grass for the remaining acts. The festival ended with the Rose Parker Trio and a whole lot of thank yous and congratulations.

As we walked back to our cars, the only two left on the golf course, we reflected on our experience and decided it was one of the best weekends we could have had. Thank you to everyone who made it happen.