"The smell of smoked hide lingers around us and as she weaves needle and stories, remembering home, and she brings peace, the low light catching off a silver thimble nestled onto the tip of a ring finger."
"Each novel is its own journey and until I realized that, I kept trying to replicate my last experience and failing. I always worry my muse has deserted me, but he always come back with a bouquet of surprises. "
"...all I want is for our upcoming generations to have moments peace just like that with their own songs, prayers, and ceremonies."
My two little sisters are a blessing and a curse. I have memories of their births, though some of the details get a little confused. I remember being woken up in the middle of the night and getting carried out to our old chevy pick up truck but I don’t know if my other sister… Continue reading Sisters
One of the first dates I went on was with a white guy. Which was new for me. Being from a small Northern Indigenous community, I usually dated Dene’s, Cree’s and sometimes, when I was feeling exotic, Métis. But “dating” in the North – it’s not like in the city.
It was only years later that my work began exploring sexuality and sensuality in my chosen genres of photography and writing. I broke up with my long-term partner, and spent some time doing research, listening to people’s stories about their sweeties, and having my own experiences.
Last week I went to visit the Hamlet of Tulita. I was there to do Inuit and Dene games demonstrations at the Chief Albert Wright School. I had traveled to the community once before, by boat up the Mackenzie River from my hometown community of Fort Providence. It was a memorable and adventurist trip with my… Continue reading Where The Rivers Meet – Tulita, NT