Truth and Reconciliation

Generational Healing

I paint as an expression of what I feel that I cannot always explain with words. Sometimes these paintings come to me very clearly as this one did. I had been thinking about how much my family has been impacted by residential schools, how colonization has affected us and how these things are passed on generationally.

This painting represents how imposing blue quills has been on my family. There is a lot of intergenerational trauma because of it. We had multiple generations of family members attend this s hool.

Flowers represent medicines to me. The flowers are growing over the photos and bringing healing and change. Medicine comes in many forms.

The photo of blue quills is large because it had a huge impact. It’s not covered because it will never go away.

The smudge and eagle feather are clearing away the pain through reconnection to culture. Culture is medicine.

Each one of the flowers represents someone in my family. The purple ones are my dad and his siblings. The yellow ones represent myself and my siblings that’s why there are 5 of them. The orange ones are my parents grandchildren. The pink dots represent all of my cousins. The berries represent change and new growth. The sage also represents growth through healing. There are two photos of my family members as youth when they would’ve been in Blue Quills Indian Residential school

The background colours are there because of how this painting came me. Red is understood to be connected to healing, it is also understood to be the only colour that spirits can see.

Overall the painting is like a prayer for healing, separating my family from the school and the impact it’s trauma created.

Hope

Finding light in the dark

HOPE.

That little light far off in the distance.

HOPE.

The light in the night sky.

HOPE.

I need to move towards it. That’s my hope.

It’s very dark.

My hope is a beacon in this darkness. I move closer still. My hope is getting brighter.

The darkness still surrounds. Yet I still see that light.

It burns brighter and whispers “I am here”

Hope

I move closer, I’m trying to reach out, trying to grasp a hold of the light in the darkness.

I hope.

Hope tells me “you are not alone” – Hope says “I am here. “

Suddenly, I realize that the light isn’t far away. Suddenly, I realize that the light was always with me. I just didn’t know that the light was always shining within me.

HOPE

Hope shines and it radiates out. It is light. The darkness is diminished. Hope is bright and it radiates from me.

Hope is love. I grasp a hold of my hope.

HOPE

Nista Mina

I wish I could speak my language. I know words but not conversations. I hear words I recognize but cannot understand. Some words come to me.

Pikiskwe – speak

Astum ota – come here

Awas – go away

Mitsoh – eat

I know words and sometimes I hear answers in my mind…

Tansi -namoyananto ekwa kiya

…but my mind says “I’m fine, how about you?”

Someone gives me something, my mind says ay-aye but I answer in English and say thank-you.

Kekeway oma? What is this?

I have lost my words. I have lost my conversations and now only in my mind I speak.