#indigneous art

IG: sian_h1 

My story began in a family torn by war far before I entered the world. My mother’s side since the 1960s could be considered a puzzle. Despite the pieces being so clear and close to one another, no one had the energy to put them back together again. It was because of this that my grandmother never met her real parents, and my mother never met her aunts or uncles or cousins, and I never met them either. For me, my family even to this day consisted of close friends, close enough to consider them siblings. My mother’s best friend whom she grown up with had children the same time as her, and to me, they were my cousins. The idea of relatives by blood had always made me giggle, because my fathers side too was broken. His father was a dead beet, and perhaps that is why my father himself chose drugs over his own children. Before my grandmothers death on his side I remember visiting my cousins at least once a year. We would drive hours just to spend the weekend and see them, but in 2010 I saw them less and less, to a current point of not even remembering what they look like. One person In your family is always the glue. Be it an aunt or uncle or grandparent, when they are gone so is the glue, or whatever example you may use to describe someone who kept your family from falling apart. When I turned 18 and used ancestry for the first time, I found my grandmothers niece, Amy. In the following months we made numerous 6 hour drives to visit her side of the family, who all lived around the reserve in which she was born. Through speaking with her different relatives I discovered there were many more in close distance who no one had spoken to in years. To me, they acted as though it was each other’s fault. They all pointed fingeres and made excuses as to why they haven’t spoken to their brother or their sister or their cousin in years. The reality was, nobody made the effort. Despite being blood torn apart by the racism of the Canadian government in the 1960s, they had no urge to show them wrong. For me, it was anger and spite that caused me to form so many close relationships with my cousins like Amy, and her 6 year old daughter who I would now move mountains just to put a smile on her face. I wanted to show this country that it’s going to take more than a faulty foster care system to tear us apart.

Three things that caught my attention on the internet this week: a new map of the moon, Indigenous art in Minnesota, and rescuing the Kherson herbarium.

Source: Canadian Museum of History instagram, @canmushistory

Source: Instagram. @onf_nfb & @mekyoh

By request, R.I.S.E. is now selling their posters in an online store on Etsy: www.etsy.com/shop/demiandineyazhi. The posters are still free for digital download at burymyart.tumblr.com, but not everyone has access to a printer. The price covers the cost of printing, shipping & handling, & helps support Contemporary Indigenous Art. Share and repost! R.I.S.E. Radical Indigenous Survivance & Empowerment Info: http://burymyart.tumblr.com/ http://www.facebook.com/RISEIndigenous http://www.etsy.com/shop/demiandineyazhi contact: [email protected] ____________________________.

Mask of Kwe'lele. Zuni people. Annual report of the bureau of American ethnology. 1901-02.