In Residence

Well, I’m In-Residence now. Following in footsteps of many respected colleagues, peers and mentors, I’m the Writer-in-Residence at MacEwan University. A residency is so much more than a sponsored time and space for pursuing one’s own artistic goals, although that, in itself, makes a residency a wonderful thing. I’m being paid to obey my muse,…

One: sort of a review of Stewart Copeland’s Ben Hur, but really a run on, excitable meditation on music, fandom, family; a cacophonous riot, wherein complexity matters, but never overrules the sheer bombastic roar…

I bought Zenyatta Mondatta with my own money, back when I was a kid, and albums were at thing,  and we were that family – openly ‘halfbreed’ and forever under suspicion, building salt enough to resist the constant grinding. I had to have it. It was weird. It fit. I was embarrassed by these guys,…

Reflection: St. Eugene, 2019

“We’re selling an opportunity to understand our history, to know our people and to share our vision of turning a 60-year nightmare around. We’re creating new memories for our children.” – Ktunaxa Chief Sophie Pierre St. Eugene is a former Indian Residential School, which has been made over into a resort, complete with casino and…

Candle

how, as well to ask the wind, do you perform ceremony for someone who believed other than you do?   does the same wind extinguish every candle? was it real? the vision of your soul, as spark suddenly aware of how light the spiral of space and time wide open, how easy to fly  …

Day 12: Dull Thing

Day 12, our task is to write a poem addressing something dull, or mundane. Sure. Dull Thing dull thing: I could speak here of a knife worn thin it is its metal, atom by atom, infused into all who have shared my kitchen binding us. but a knife is a tool, best kept sharp; or…

The Silence Between Two Rivers

I call myself the Silence Between Two Rivers because I inherit two large streams of humanity. The stories of our interconnections are not well told, for the most part. And the pressure to choose one side or another of my identity is real. And tedious. And not nearly as interesting to me as the territory in between.

Another Podcast Up, at CBC

Here’s another great podcast series; this one’s about Indigenous languages. Each guest is interviewed about our relationship to/use of our Indigenous language(s), and asked to share 3 words for the audience to learn. Have a listen! First Words There is so much more I’d like to say, and of course, so much more we discussed,…

Podcast Up!

Recently, I had the most delicious privilege of spending an evening as the guest of Let’s Get Lit* –  Have a listen! * I was their Alcohol-Free special edition, ’cause I’m truly just that square! And ’cause being part of such a sweet, hilarious and warm-hearted community just lights me up!

Morning

Originally posted on Prairiepomes:
Joy comes in the morning. – Psalm 30:5 Morning was always Mom’s time. In the winter on the farm, morning would begin with the sound of her rattling the kitchen stove, stoking up the fire. We heated the house via a mixed-fuel furnace in the basement, whom, for reasons that live…

Hear the WORD

Tomorrow night, I get to spend an hour with Michael James and Thea Bowering, talking about words, music, religion, sex and politics. What’s more fun than campus radio? Indie, intellectual and evolving. Check it out! Word on CJSR

Heart Throb

We are all children of the drum. Life begins and ends to that primal one-two heartbeat, and drums have always been the most powerful of the instruments. We don’t always know that, though, don’t always consciously recognise it, any more, i suppose, than we recognise our own heart beating most of the time. It comes…

Death Tango for Three: the Podcast

Last winter, Argentinian born poet and art historian Luciana Erregue-Sacchi invited two writers – myself and the fabulous Nermeen Youssef – to join her on a quest, to encounter, perform and respond to Paul Célan’s masterpiece, the Todesfuge/Death Tango. Over the course of an incredible night, we shared our hearts and minds, resonating like bells…