Originally posted on Prairiepomes:
We all know the two stereotypes of how writers live: starving in a Dickensian garret, or swanning about in a mansion, courted by the power elites. However, in Canada, in 2018, how do real writers really live? What’s ‘home’ for us? What follows is an extremely non-exhaustive exploration: I asked some…
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Beginning and Beginning and Beginning
Originally posted on Prairiepomes:
? Today, they took the statue down in Kjipuktuk, or Halifax town in Mi’kmaki, mapped as Nova Scotia along the stormy Atlantic Ocean ? Where did it begin? This need to raise up monuments to men who call for deaths of other men and women and children and ways and lay a…
Day 3: Confession Dare
I ate the Dare cookies. I ate the whole bag. I ate all, at one go. Okay? Say why? No, I can’t. Childhood lack? No, in fact my mother baked shortbread to call angels earthward. Assign it affluenza, then if you insist influence applies. Or reckon it rebellion. Whatever. I confess. I had the best…
Keep on Dancing
Originally posted on Prairiepomes:
Today, I’m watching this film: Dancing Around the Table My aim was just to show my kid her grandpa, there among the indigenous delegations; but of course, start watching, and it is remarkably clear that, despite what the champions of derivative, tragedy porn works like ‘Secret Path’ would have us believe,…
Coming to Canada: A Gardener’s Meditation, Part 2
Walk Lightly As for my Indigenous paternal family, the roots of connection to land had been seared and cauterized in so many joints. You can see it in the thickened waist, that telltale stress-marker of starvation and trauma, passed down into phenotype. Grandma wore it gloriously, the bear’s body and round face. I have her…
Creation
they say, star woman fell down here because she was curious they say, the star sisters still watch us they say, when star woman fell it was a humble one who gave all he had to reach enough earth for her landing they say, the humble ones still watch us they say, the turtle carries…
Day 30: Because Blossoms
did i mention i came to the city suspicious? after all every indian of a certain age (yes, indian, to frame this) knows that cities eat indians. of course, there’s the trick. i am anishinabekwe, lnuskw also, and polish by matrilineage. i came looking for some fabled southland that sang to me in dreams all…
Day 2: sun, belatedly
So, having decided to do 30 in 30, i was immediately sidetracked by the sun. Day 2: Vancouver Sun we are the improbable light of the future. would my father see us that way? his grand daughters on the path ahead of me, hazel and blonde we’ve been here ten days and no rain every…
Looking for Us: Adventures in Reconciling Edmonton
This summer, i was invited to be part of a great project, with a great team of women. Reconciling Edmonton, proposed by Historian Laureate Danielle Metcalfe-Chenail, brought together 2 Aboriginal women – myself and Miranda Jimmy – and 2 ‘Settler’ women – Danielle, and Artist-in-Residence for the Office of the City Clerk, Jennie Vegt. Our mission:…
Stand By
Nope, haven’t disappeared entirely into the summer’s journeys. Stand by for new essays and poetry about the tour – so wonderful, thanks guys! – and what followed, family reunion complete with funeral, memorial and spiritual bubble blowing. And that guest poet is in the works, too…. very very soon.
On Tour! ArtBar, Black Coffee Video, and a Wild West Literary Bunfight with Kris Demeanor!
Two stops is a tour, right? Two stops with three events, that is. Monday, i’m off to Toronto. Tuesday the 17th, i’ll be guesting at The ArtBar Poetry Series, longest running poetry series in Toronto. How about that? One of the organisers is an old friend from university days, Stephen Humphrey. I owe Stephen a…
Letter from a Friend
This one’s for my good friend Ivan, a poet and a gentleman, who most poetically and politely pointed out that i’d omitted one letter from the Animal Alphabet. Thanks. How’s this? Reputation’s Quetzals may flash long green tails, but the Craft in the Path is a simple brown Quail. best ams
Prairiepomes 