Ozies, who is now aged 34, unearthed astounding cultural treasure last year when, believing his Djugun people's songlines around Broome had been lost, he asked an elder from a neighbouring tribe to show his songs and dances on camera.
Roy Wiggan, a law boss from the Bardi people whose cultural knowledge had survived comparatively intact through distance from settlement, sized Ozies up and offered instead to teach him the Djugun songlines thought to be long-forgotten.
"Old man Wiggan said, 'I know who you are. I've got songs and stories for you.' So here I am wanting to do someone else's story and he's got these songs and dances that haven't been performed for 50 years that we thought we'd lost," Ozies says.
He and his family's production company Wawili Pitchas had been commissioned by NITV and Screen Australia to make a short documentary for an ambitious series on the Indigenous songlines which sweep the length and breadth of the land.
The result is Footprints, a poignant introduction to the songlines lying beneath all Australians' feet. Ozies describes songlines as a library of information, a road map and a Bible, all at once. "They all interweave," he says.
Songlines have long held a poetic, romantic fascination for non-Aboriginal people. The stories seem too grand to be contained on a page. Their scope is so breathtaking, it is as if English cannot describe them and they must be seen and heard, performed on country, to be understood. The names of the most famous are alluring: The Seven Sisters or The Rainbow Serpent.
Some songlines criss-cross the continent and loop back on themselves, each chapter of their narrative connected to a sacred rock, waterhole or other geographic feature. Some are small and teach about local features and the cycle of the seasons. They are maps and instructional manuals, with rules and recipes for survival. They also embody Indigenous art, law and religious belief.
Footprints, to be screened on Sunday, June 12, ushers in eight short films which NITV channel manager, Tanya Denning-Orman says is the first Songlines series ever televised.
Local film-makers and cultural custodians from the Kimberley to Arnhem Land have made the land itself the beautiful star of each show and brought the stories up-close.
"I describe this as a gift to the community… All Australians were deprived of being educated about the culture and belonging to the land. What the songlines teach you is the connection you have to the country in this land," Denning-Orman says.
When Ozies sought to document his family's ancient songlines, his role extended way beyond that of director. He found himself coming out from behind the camera to learn Djugun law, alongside his nephews, cousins and uncles, who were stunned to receive knowledge they thought doomed to oblivion since early missionaries banned use of languages, lawmen were incarcerated and elders had died.
"Roy had seven or eight songs from our tribe and particular artefacts that you have to have that you dance with…We sat with him for months learning these dances and making these artefacts and learning from him," Ozies says.
Much of what they were taught about their songlines was deep, secret knowledge, including men's initiation business.
"It was painful sometimes because we would learn this dance and I'm formulating how we're going to shoot this particular dance and we're practising this dance and then Roy says – 'Oh no, you can't show this one'," Ozies says.
"You're thinking, 'Oh, this is going to be awesome', because it's this spectacular dance and he says, 'No, no, this one's for you, but it's not allowed to be shown publicly.' Then it's like – aw, if only I could show it.