I remembered that I come from people who are storytellers. Artists. Lovers. Foolish friends and mischievous family. We are drenched in the survival and reclamation of generations past, and by our very act of breathing, laughing, loving - we are claiming our rightful space for our descendants. We are here.
#ColtenBoushie will not be forgotten. His loss is felt across nations. He’s our ancestor now. - Jessica Wood
And I do need help – and help is here. My brothers and their families, my parents, my best friends, my friends, and so on. If I need help, I just have to ask. Aerie is loved by many, and that is so good. She has a million aunties, just like any rez kid.
I splurge on a coffee I cannot afford, and I smile. The sun is shining. The mountains are outside the window. I write poetry. I am loved. All is well.
But slowly, slowly, I felt like I couldn’t breathe. I couldn’t feel the joy. I couldn’t feel the passion. I felt… grey. Nothing. Absent. I went through the motions and denied that anything was wrong. Or I would sigh and shake my head, because even if something was wrong, there was nothing anyone could do to “fix it.”
I stood still for a second, listening to the Rez accents in a big city, the sweet rush of ocean wind blowing through our hair, and I smiled. Sometimes you find kin in the most unexpected places.
I needed a very specific shot of an Indigenous woman, standing proud, playful, and sensual. No biggie. Just decolonizing images, one Indigenous at a time.
I don't love studio work, but I accept the challenge. I want to try. I want to learn. I want to make the mistakes.
Takwakin (Autumn or Fall) is the time of year that my family and I usually make our annual visit to Saskatchewan. However, this year we decided to stay home on the coast. Taking my boys back to where I come from is always a time that I look forward to. I want them to see,… Continue reading HOME
A little bit of Indigenous magic.
And I think it was from the stories and community that this session carried. Nothing I do comes without stories.