Native Art and Bingorage.

First grouse of season.

2009-10-05T01:26:00.004-05:00

I sent the following message to my MP (NDP), about the provincial push to create a "harmonised sales tax" in Ontario. The federal NDP and Liberals do not suport the HST proposal, and the Conservatives are distancing themselves from it.

"One ramification of the HST debate that I have not heard elsewhere: Treaty rights. Currently, Ontario status Natives are not required to pay PST; but if taxes are "harmonised", then will First Nations consumers be forced to save receipts and seek reimbursement? Much of this spending will go unreimbursed and allow fed. and prov. government to avoid another treaty obligation."

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Minnesota Public Radio piece about the Minnesota Pipestone Quarry. The Catlinite mined there was traded all around the continent, as the finest stone pipe material

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My friend, Gene Stoltzfus, is a peace activist who has been very active in the Middle East. He blogs at "Peace Probe", here's a link to his recent posting, musing about the General McChrystal Afghan War Memo.

The founder of a Miami-based Christian ministry has been arrested in relation to a 1981 triple murder of a tribal leader and his friends, to prevent the expose of an Indian casino ripoff by outside managers.

Unsafe practices by US hamburger producers continues to expose consumers to toxic E. Coli. Cargill and USDA responsible for this dance instructor's paralysis.

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Canadian Aboriginal Music Awards, November 27, 2009.

Another Native blog, Liberated, Yet? "questions into Indigenous liberation and decolonisation"

10 morals atheism gives me. At Godless Heathen.

2009 NAMMY winners, at Censored News.

Interview with Sherman Alexie; basketball, writing and the importance of offending (at least some) readers. Awesome Native author.

Robert Davidson, Haida artist, 13 years old.

Preston Singletary: Echoes, Fire, and Shadows. Awesome Tlingit glass artist. July 11, 2009 – September 19, 2010; Museum of Glass, Tacoma, WA.

CutFoot Dances On

2009-09-30T05:49:00.004-05:00

"Cut Foot Dances With A Beast"
- continued

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The old fire watch tower has been removed from its concrete pad at Pither's Point Park. This would make a great site for a sculptural installation; dontcha think?

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Another Native blog. This one belongs to CBC Manitoba reporter, Waubgeshig Rice.

My Bud, Ryan McMahon has been plenty busy. He's trying to get a sitcom, shot locally.

"... McMahon felt his proposed sitcom, currently with the working title, “Don’t Call Me Chief,” is something that could replace “Trailer Park Boys” on the Showcase network since that series will be going off the air.
“What we’re saying is that we got the thing,” he remarked. “It’s Canadian, it’s funny, it’s from an aboriginal perspective. But anybody in Canada can relate to these things, especially in a small town.
“For example, the idea of going to get groceries at the bait and tackle shop because that’s what some people do.”
McMahon even has some well-known actors associated with the project so far, such as Scott Thompson from “Kids in the Hall,” who would play the mayor of the small town..."

First Nation artist carves special healing pole.

Cool beaded hand sculptural project.

Check out the great photography of Nadya Kwandibens, from up in my neck of the woods.

Interesting artwork, Northwest coast designs, custom applied to new shoes. 8'th Generation.

Call for submission: 4-minute films about Native American Veterans. For NMAI, Smithsonian. October 18, '09, deadline.

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CutFoot Dances With A Beast

2009-09-16T05:31:00.003-05:00

Find Maisy and Shannon. Please take a look.

My bud, Ryan's immortal curmudgeon, Clarence Two Toes.

Inspiring Native author, Sherman Alexie, coming out with new collection of stories; WarDances.

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CutFoot Dances With A Beast

Creating the Background, July.

Yay! Throwing paint makes me happy.

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Interlude.

Adding human and "beast" elements to composition, September.

Pencil added. Beast acquires tail tuft.

A magic wind, added; in the Beast's wake.

Dude reacquires jaw... and a moon.

Looking kinda Elfen, or Vulcan.

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Moozo (Ahnishnahbeh, Algonkian]. Biggun. An "old one". Pic forwarded to me in email; Northeastern Ontario. [East of here, anyway.]

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Another awesome talk from the TED conference, about the emerging science of cymatics (visualisation of sound).

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President Obama presents 16 with Presidential Medal of Freedom, including Joe Medicine Crow.

Monument memorialises signing of Treaty 8, Sucker Creek First Nation, Alberta.

Rick Bartow, show; Snake Dance, Sept. 3rd – Sept. 26th, Froelick Gallery, Portland, OR.

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First taste of Autumn linkypost

2009-09-04T04:36:00.000-05:00

Local peace activeist Gene Stoltzfus with some thoughts on low-level racism ("Our Way of Life") in the Northern Ontario hinterlands. (@ Gene Stoltzfus website, PeaceProbe.)

"... in the late 50s as a student at Eastern Mennonite University (Virginia) I wrote and delivered a speech for an oratorical contest condemning segregation and racist thinking... After the speech a few people came to me to suggest that I may have stepped over the line and some people were offended by my speech. It was all very polite. Nothing like the doomsday, “Our Way of Life” protests I felt in Alberton last week..."

Ontario Aboriginal Housing Services launches FIMUR; Assisted Home Ownership Program.

Stephen Harper and Conservative governmentthreaten popular tax credit. This craven act extorts MP's to not vote against confidence vote and out-of-pocket Canadians to lobby against killing bill.

FBI investigating ads offering Maine Indian scalps.

"... The seller offered six scalps and related artifacts from a private family collection said to have been obtained by bounty hunters in the 1700s. Back then, bounties were offered for Penobscot Indians or for their scalps, Francis said. One proclamation, dated 1755, offered 50 pounds in British currency for every male Penobscot above the age of 12 and 40 pounds for their scalps... A 1990 federal law makes it illegal for museums to have Native American remains and requires institutions to return remains to their rightful tribes, said Jason Brown, spokesman at Bar Harbor's Abbe Museum, which is devoted to Maine's Native American heritage..."

Alberta, Shell try to quash aboriginal challenge to oilsands leases.

Canada's Sickest Lake. (Macleans.ca)

"... The putrid green mat, twice the size of P.E.I. and clearly visible from space, is jaw-dropping evidence of an ecosystem in deep trouble. Already, Lake Winnipeg, the world’s tenth-biggest lake, is in worse shape than notorious Lake Erie..."

57 Years Of Silence (WinnipegFreePress.com)

"... Only three years ago they found out their loved ones were buried in a mass, unmarked grave at the reserve, ending 57 years of mystery surrounding the crash there. Now, they've been given the answer -- or likely the closest thing to it -- to the mystery behind that decision, some explanation for why the bodies of the seven Inuit were treated differently than the 13 others, all white, all from Southern Canada, and taken with care and respect south to Winnipeg, then transported across the country to the hometowns for burial..."

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New York Times editorial, Waiting For Crazy Horse.

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RebellionJohn Horse and the Black Seminoles, The First Blacks to beat American Slavery.

Design a T-shirt for a chance at $2500.00; Threadless Tees.

Interview with Ojibway artist Christian Chapman, at Wawatay News.

Native artists to discuss identity issues Sept. 11 at Fred Jones museum; Norman, Oklahoma.

"Eight Native Oklahoman artists are gathering for a public panel discussion about survival strategies and identity issues during a special event at the Fred Jones Jr. Museum of Art Friday, Sept. 11. At 10 a.m., the artists will begin a session titled "Art as Identity: The Operative Principles of Affirmation, Accommodation and Appropriation in the Native American Artistic Pursuit of Self."

First Nation's retreat offers authenticity, elegance. (TheStar.com)

How to Make Your Own Peyote Stitch Toggle Clasp (About.com)

Canada Council award nets Regina gallery new art (CBC.ca)

"... MacKenzie officials chose to add six of the 11 pieces from Cuthand's "hauntingly beautiful" Trading series to its holdings. The series explores the goods and diseases that European traders introduced to the Americas. Individual pieces show the diseases — as seen under a microscope — rendered in intricate beadwork..."

Tusaalanga

"... is a dynamic website that brings Inuktitut learning to the world wide web. It was created by the Pirurvik Centre, an Iqaluit-based company dedicated to enhancing Inuit language, culture and well-being."

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Labor Day Night Late-Next-Morning post.

2009-09-02T02:18:00.008-05:00

My bud, Ryan has been on a creative tear, lately!!!!
Check him out at ryanmcmahoncomedy.com. I think that his URL has finally settled down. Make sure to check out the Clarence Two Toes podcasts.

Check out the first installment of his improv vidcast, "Letters To My Daughters"...
Boys Suck.

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The YellowFace portrait's evolution

This canvas has beeen around for a couple months. I have posted about it, previously, but when my main image-hoster went "tits up in the Wabigoon", I decided to repost the whole process. The "current incarnation" picture at the end of this history, is not the final composition. I think that there will be beadwork, and more paint, added.

At first, I duct-taped the canvas to the wall, in order to paint it brown (red ochre). The tape failed and the canvas fell.

I took that canvas and stretched it onto my usual 1"x4" boxframe.

My first pass, was with an "Autumn Gold" type yellow.

Adding ear, teeth and white to the composition.

Ominous black stuff emanating from mouth.

Blue reflection stuff.

Bye-bye, ominous black emanations from mouth.

Bybye, ominous far side of head stuff.

Current incarnation. Sharpie outlining added. Beadwork and other stuff contemplated.

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Leech Water story, continued.

2009-08-30T06:41:00.005-05:00

This posting contains adult words and situations. It and the previous posting are the latest addition to my online short story collection, The Shitbag Opera. Visit, forewarned.

Cab Ride

I convinced Jesus to get rid of the leeches along the way. Actually; he "released them into the wild".

It is arguable that being released into a ditch that is only, theoretically, connected to a lake, isn't really "freeing the leeches". Especially from the leeches point of view. The chances of said leeches navigating far enough "downstream" in a sluggish current that zigzags a maze of culverts, weedy ditches and gravelly washes, that alternately run dry and flooded, before Autumn freezes them all solid and denies said leeches the luxury of hibernating in the mud or migrating to Miami for the winter, is remote. However... it has been a wet summer.

I decided to call Brian along the way, having decided that the risk of being publicly connected to Jesus at the 7-11 was higher than someone finding and connecting a call from my disposable cellphone. He agreed to meet us on the meandering riverside boulevard that ran from mansions to shitholes, as we traveled upstream, towards downtown. By day, it is home to nubile joggers in lycra sportsbras and retirees with toy dachshunds. By night, it's a cruise for junkies, cops-on-administrative-punishment, bull fags, teen shitbags and the clinically depressed. Dirty Jesus' wild stares and twitches stood out, even amongst this stew of perverts and nobody bothered us.

I like to presume that my own appearance did not contribute, much, to our pariah status. But, I imagine that I looked like some fallen, second-rate housepainter, out to score something cheap.

Brian rolled up on us, while we were perusing a beaver carcass, in the middle of the road. There aren't many beavers in the city. Not as far as I could tell, anyways. It stood out at a distance, and got stranger as we approached. DJ was totally freaked, never having seen a beaver, in person, before. The strangeness, for me, was seeing beaver out of context. There was little for it to eat, here, and no hope of damming the Mississippi River. The taxis driver-side window rolled down with a low electric hiss.

"Beaver out of context.", I said.

"Would you fuckers stop staring at the pizza and get in before the cops drift by?"

I count on Brian to provide rationality, in odd circumstance. We got in.

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I had explained to Brian, on the phone, my desire to make it 'fucking impossible' for DJ to find his way back to my cousin's place, so we took the scenic route out of town. The cab slid like magic, between cop cars, crackheads and certain jailtime. I handed the mace over to Brian and it went straight into his utility bag.

"So... What the fuck have you dumbshits been up to?"

"Not much... Dirty Jesus, here, has been playing at public indecency, though. Theft and aggravated assault, too, with one of my bouncer tools. Nasty shit."

"Nice."

Dirty Jesus had taken the wise course of shutting the fuck up and not pissing anybody off, for now. I laid the whole story on Brian and he laughed his ass off.

"Jesus?"

"Yes, Brian?"

"Did anybody ever tell you that you are one weird puppy?"

"Well... all the time."

The dry, innocent way that he spoke, reduced us to tears of laughter. Dirty Jesus smiled and observed the circus, out the window. We watched the partygirls, homeboys, punks, skank tourists, whores and junkies partying in the alleys, the riverbanks, the back ways, cheap apartment-building porches, vacant lots and empty warehouses as we took the long way, out of the city.

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"Okay, Jésus. It's time for you to earn Sanctuary.", says Brian. He's in cruise control, flying down some unlit backcountry road, cab-spidey sense doping out deer, drunk and raccoon around blind corners. "Give me the good word, Preach."

Dirty Jesus exhaled, eyes closed. He inhaled slowly, held it... and began to speak:

"Rose woke up in the bushes, covered in moonlight and bile... piss and dew. Her pains had faded to the low thump of fresh charley-horse. She was alone under the stars, but she was alive. She screamed at the stars until they shook and disappeared from her sight. They fled to the underworld, sought the forges of the Earth and quaked under Vulcan's cloak. She turned and walked into the city, void and vaccuum in her stare. Animals cowered. People ran, screaming, in their sudden nightmares. Streetlights winked out in her bow wave and Rush Limbaugh fondled himself as he waltzed the dragon, dreaming of liberal cities falling to the torch.

Concrete cracked and heaved under her broken heels. Lightning gathered in her face as she approached the strip. Ten thousand years endurance of patriarchy and posture blossomed in her gaze, unfurled and unmade the bars, the dance clubs, the yuppie cafes and university hangouts. Stadium seated micro-megaplex cinemas, dark and private texmex-brand shitholes, neglected public parks, sticky college dorms, alley and penthouse. All were swept away and made clean.

The places where old school motherfuckers made their old white man plans, ghetto dives where shiny black men shook on schemes and pipedreams, cedar bushes where sober old Indians quake in the presence of young drunks and paint-huffers, fancy oxygen-cafes where the triads carve up the boat people; all were swept away and made clean.

She would cleanse this place.

Everywhere Rose strode, she spat and it turned to plague and corruption that turned into Minnesota politics. She shat on a giant church and it grew. She pissed on the new library and it turned into a Walmart. She dripped blood as she walked and the drops became parking meters and pay-toilets. When she finally stopped, it all grew back before her eyes. It flourished in her goddamn cess and hate; as she stood there for sixtyty years, watching... astonished. In silence, she became as stone. One day, some fucking artist stuck a pipe up her ass and water now squirts out her nose inna a pool with those big colourful fish... Poi. That's what I know."

"Amen, brother. You're paid up." He rolled his eyes at me, then said "You, however, are racking up the points!" Brian punctuated this, with his best Brad Pitt head shake and eyeroll. "... Yeah."

One hundred and forty-eight minutes later, we rolled to a stop at my cousin's place. If I had driven there, myself, it would have taken under an hour. I am fairly sure that DJ would not be able to find his way back, in any daytime.

Do not put your dingleberries, down, there.

The cab rolled to a stop, 50 feet from the end of the road. The reason for stopping short, has a sincere look of finality. A gaping trench across the road, gravel berm on the other side and a tiny hand-lettered sign, strongly affixed to a huge, tarry, heartwood-cut creosote timber.

Brian sat on the hood of his taxi, smoking a cigarette, trying not to get worked-up. He had made the mistake of walking up to the sign to read it, even though I warned him not to do so.

The sign is written in a bold, black ink script. Probably written with a broad tip fountain pen. It appears to be penned on whitened parchment; dried, scraped, stretched and limed animal skin, species unknown. More than rawhide, less than leather. It is set in a waterproof shadow box, fronted by heavy glass; only a foot, square. It was the scariest document that I had ever read, up to that point.

I made the mistake of having first read it, in the wrong context. This, too, was the wrong context for Brian; arriving late at night, without invitation and a good pre-explanation of the sign. He knew, as well, that there was something "not quite right" about my cousin, Billy. Don't get me wrong. Billy's not psycho, or anything, like that. He's just very different than most people that you're ever likely to meet.

The sign is hard to read, especially to those who are not familiar with the cool medium of manuscript. It brings you into the intent of the scribe, in a way that is missing from the uniformity of typeface.

To whom it May Concern;

You are now 50 metres inside of my private property. If you go back to the large pine stump, you will see the clearly posted "no-trespassing" sign. I have many legally-owned firearms that are properly secured against theft, but easily accessible to me. I can see you from my position. I know that you are there. You left the safety of your pretty vehicle to read this sign; I know the yardage. There's never enough meat in my smoker.

: Landowner

When Brian returned to the car and took out his cigarettes. He wasn't shaking, but I could tell that he was concerned. I had tried to warn him.

"What the fuck have you gotten us into, Aaron?"

"It's not as bad as it looks... My cousin's a fucking genius. That sign can put the love of Jesus in somebody's heart, like nothing I ever saw. That's true. It's just a flaming piece of psychological art, though."

"Psycho art... I don't think genius is the word for it."

"Billy knows the local cops and game wardens. They drink beer and paw strippers, together. Any hunter or hippy that reads that sign, freaks out and goes to the local authorities is liable to get laughed-at and a trespassing citation."

"You're going to leave Dirty Jesus with poker-playing, swamp-billy cops?"

There's no way the cops will come out here. They're great friends with Billy... when he's in town. They can't sleep ten yards from a shower, microwave and espresso machine. They hate it, out here.

"They're yuppies, not cannibal hillbillies."

"What about the game warden?"

"He only shows up at deer season to make sure that Citizen Willam, here, doesn't have half a dozen deer hanging, within sight of the road. Billy likes to put his first kill up in that tree, skinned, if the weather's cold enough. Really wows the yokels, but the warden makes sure that it doesn't look like House of a Thousand Corpses, up here."

"I nearly crapped myself, when I got to the end of that letter. The whole woods-at-night, NRA nutcase and mutant-hillbilly atmosphere."

"Marshall McLuhan is smiling on your ass. Just imagine what your reaction would be, if your runnathemill quarterback and head cheerleader get lost, looking for the beach and read that sign; all the while their SUV is sucking up a litre per minute under a cloudy quarter-moon, they can't get email or Oprah on their crackberrys and it looks impossible to put their hummer inna three-point turn, right here. They're shittin' goldbrick, I guarantee.... They go away and they don't come back."

"I imagine that none of their friends ever come back."

Once, somebody had come back, while I was here. What a clusterfuck that night had become.

"Don't worry about it. Nobody up here knows us, nobody is gonna come here looking for Jesus, nobody knows that we're here... and, you don't have to stay."

"I think that it's noble. You feel like babysitting the Jesus, like the worst Mother Theresa impersonator, ever."

"Fuck you."

"Nobody, except your cousin."

"What?"

"Nobody... knows that we are here... but your cousin, right?"

"Yeah, sure."

I sure hope so, that is. He hadn't answered his phone, but, I know that he screens every call and listens to every phone message. Religiously, like.

"I mean... I'm pretty sure, he knows we're here." I was staring at a wobbling reflection, off to the side of direct headlight beams. "... That would be best." I was fairly certain that the wobbling reflection, was the worn, blued-steel barrel of a pump-slug shotgun.

"Fuckin' great"

"Whatever you do, don't make any sudden movements. 'kay?"

"Shit... yeah"

I could count on Brian to be cool, but Dirty Jesus was trembling in the back seat of the car, as per my orders. I knew, that the sudden appearance of a gun-toting anybody would send him into a paroxysm of twitches and tweaker babble that could cause a shitstorm of bad craziness.

"Brian?"

"Yeah?"

"Go sit with Jesus and hold his hand for a minute, would ya?"

"Ah. You gotta be fucking kidding me..."

"No."

"He stinks like crazy and nobody's ever seen him wash his hands."

"Buy me a minute."

"This is going to cost you."

"I know"

"Big."

"I know."

Brian deliberately got up and slid in next to Dirty Jesus, on my side of the car. He slowly, but firmly closed the door. I turned towards the welcome party and called out my cousin's name, then mine. I mentioned that I had a couple guests.

There was an immediate and sharp click of metal, a familiar whistle, then the jarring clack of a shell being cycled out. If I knew Billy, he probably turned the shotgun sideways and tried to catch it in his pocket.

"It's okay, guys. Get out of the car, already."

A strong flashlight beam cut through the trees, as he approached. More for our benefit and peace of mind, than his.

"Boys. This is my cousin, William the BatShatner."

"Nice handle, pops." says Brian."There must be some sort of story to it."

"Yah...", Billy says, "but let's get your car parked and get you guys inside and comfortable. Then we can talk." He looked a little sideways at Jesus, but got down to business.

We'd dragged out some timbers with a "come-along" system that Billy'd barrel-stashed in the bush and drove the taxi across the side-ditch. A big green canvas tarp, a few bushes and it disappeared. There was one way to get over the berm, few roadbound vehicles could manage it. No visitors were expected and I'd only ever seen Billy's jeep crawl over the barricade.

When my cousin was satisfied, he turned towards the house and told us to follow in his footsteps.

---

Brian, Billy and I sat at the kitchen table, drinking scotch like gentlemen and swearing like sailors... keeping just north of piratry.

Billy's telling a little post-bowl fairytale, about when were little. "So, I tells Aaron...'I made you a birthday present.' He says,"Where is it? 'It's hidden, I says.' I says."

Brian's grinning, loving the scotch and the talk.

"Billy.", I says. "It really does seem to get funnier, as I get older. Just not at the time."

"It was the greatest fucking prank of my childhood, cuz. It's just too bad for you, that it worked so good."

"Yeah, no shit. There are still people in that town that think I'm Michael Meyers or the Antichrist."

Brian blows scotch through his nose, laughing. We howl with laughter, like we just invented it.

After we get Brian cleaned up and pointed at his digs for the night, we all go out to smoke on the porch, next to the Jesus. We're not worried about waking him. He chose the blue pill... and is sleeping off a six-day jag. He'll be comfortable out here, and we won't have to deal with his ass, until tomorrow night. At the earliest. We leave a big bottle of water by his head and sit with a different, better scotch and Billy's good cigars. The night is clear and warm and Billy's got great mosquito screens. Everything's good and humane, in the night. Brian looked better than I've ever seen him... and I probably did, too.

Billy takes half an hour to tell Brian a story that should have taken 90 seconds:
He goatse'ed my computer video for my science fair entry, randomly inserting the goatse pic and speed metal background. He had volunteered to help me set up at the science fair, the day after the promised birthday present. He left the video running, in what I thought had been a single looped copy, but was actually a huge file, of dozens of copies of my video clip. The goatses and speedmetal only appeared in the final five clips, but with increasing tempo until it ended in a single, screaming goatse image that refused to go away.

He had locked me out of my own computer, somehow and I could not turn it off. A teacher came to her senses and unplugged the whole schlemiel. Up until that point in my life, I was unaware that I possessed schlemiel. The next six hours of my life became defining schlemiel. [Weird linkage, here.]

Brian stayed the night and promised to come back, fishing, sometime. He called our business settled and told me to look him up for some work when I got back. Billy must have made quite an impression on him.

---

"Don't leave your dingleberries in my chair, all night. The end bedroom's made up and I opened the heat vents in there, so use it."

"Thanks a million, Shitbag." We both smiled the fleeting smile of free and innocent men. "I'll probably get there, shortly, but I'm going to sit here, watch the deer and work this bottle for awhile... Beside... you know that I love to sleep out here."

"I know.. there's blankets in that chest...."

" 'Night."

"Gooo -nite."

Brian had taken the small cabin across the yard. It is tiny, but clean, warm and comfy. He'll be leaving in the morning, but I have decided to stay for a while. I think that it's time to reacquaint myself with the good folks of Bog River, MN.

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Post-zoto? linky post

2009-08-26T00:57:00.003-05:00

It seems like the team at Zoto have been moved to act. According to their temporary support page, they had a big hardware crash, but all is not lost:"

Last Wednesday we lost two drives out of our RAID controller on our NAS that houses all the photos on the system. This is typically a "VERY BAD THING"... I'm working on restoring the service on Amazon's services. I started moving photos and code over a few months ago, and we have about 80% of the photos backed up on Amazon's S3 storage service. Given I don't run into any boogers, I should have the service back up by this weekend, less about 20% of everyone's photos, and 100% of any photos uploaded in the last month..."

So, while current and archived blog photos hosted by Zoto are completely fracked at the moment, they may return. That would be less than catastrophic, while things recently looked apocalyptic. I guess that they do not suck so much, anymore, there. Maybe.

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Scientists determine that ancient Maya practiced forest conservation -- 3,000 years ago(FossilScience.com)

New and reduced honouring of the Jay Treaty, by USA. Sure to change again and repeatedly.

Make your voice heard, Canadians! Check out the Canadian copyright consultation website and give your opinion.deadline: September 13, 2009.

What every American should be made to learn about the IG Torture Report [+and Canadians]. What a little drowning, smoke, threats of rape and torture unto death between ideological opponents?

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Stolen Native Art alert! Tony Hunt "Raven".

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Nenana artist grapples with ethnic identity. (Anchorage Daily News)

"In an artist's statement, Lord says that with the "Un/Defined Self-Portrait" series, "I attempt to challenge viewers' perceptions of what 'Native' looks like as well as demonstrate the flexible or shifting space I identify with as a mixed-race Alaska Native."

Good article about the disappearing art of "birchbark biting".

Native Art blog, Erik Wilder - Native Art Designs.

Sci-Fi film shot in First Nation language being filmed in BC.

Trickster artist pushes boundaries of Northwest Coast art. (VancouverSun.com)

New Chief elected to head Canada's Assembly of First Nations.

New Native film; A Windigo Tale.

Making Art Out Of a Plain Wood Fence. (JuneauEmpire.com)

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Bear trap in Quetico Park "rest stop".

New dam in Quetico Park? WTF?

stuff

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This is the second song, in the series; United Breaks Guitars.

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Olympic Venues to Showcase Aboriginal Art(TheEpochTimes.com)

Incan Painting of the Spanish Colonial Period(Curator's Corner blog) This was an especially interesting find. The Spanish "baroque" style of painting was transferred to Incan artists during the colonial occupation.

How to make paper beads. (Instructables.com)

Interesting beadwork post, illustrating how to bead bezels for crystals. (Inspirational Beading blog)

Navajo golfer, Notah Begay III, hosting charity golf event on August 24. Tiger Woods, Camilo Villegas and Mike Weir playing the Notah Begay III Foundation Challenge.

Journalist tips for using YouTube, productively.

Good article reviewing prehistory of the Great Lakes First Nations peoples. Ancient People of the Great Lakes (Heritage-Key.com)

International Indian Treaty Council newsletter. Upcoming annual conference in Panama, August 29-31, 2009.

Northwest Coast artist, Nicholas Galanin website. Easily, the most interesting pieces that I saw there, were the book-carving masks. Very cool.

Planet IndigenUs fest at harbourcentre in Toronto, until August 23.

Native American Music News ("Sponsored by Canyon Records.").

New, young Native artist off to Native Art school.

Visionmaker Video Contest; this year's theme "Elder Voices, Youth Choices". Deadline: Sept. 1, 2009

Fed crackdown puts tribal artifact dealers on edge (MercuryNews.com)

Review of Kent Monkman's "Danceto the Berdache". (The Artblog.org)

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First Nations women unite with farmers, cottagers to fight dump; defend water. (Indian Country Today)

Stop Dumpsite 41. Simcoe County, Ontario seeking to pollute its water; others think that this is a bad idea.

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BingoRage Square-Zeroed by Zoto.com; Anurag Art and PhotoBucket to the rescue

2009-08-17T12:11:00.011-05:00

It's grim news, BingoRagers.

My image-hoster, Zoto.com, has finally gone "tits up in the Wabigoon".
[Wabigoon, being a particularly nastily-polluted river in Northwestern Ontario. Documented in "A Poison Stronger Than Love".]

--Isn't this Amazon frame... sexy? and relevant?--

No-one responds to queries or forums there (Zoto) and I am beginning to feel like the last hopeful holdout. I imagine that this is what it must feel like at the end of society, when the last TV viewer cranks their generator and turns on their set, hoping to catch another robo-generated lineup of I Love Lucy, A-Team and brazillian soap opera reruns. One day there is no signal and we sigh, go outside and begin hunting our giant post-nuclear cockroach overlords.

Anyways.

I will have to start using another image-hoster. My archived blog-postings are next to useless, unless someone at zoto develops a conscience and tries to make the thing work again. And, the only good news, that I can see, is that I now have an excuse to post old pictures again and try to see them afresh. Perhaps it will give me an excuse to back and better document/describe what was going on with earlier pieces... but it feels like re-doing paperwork. And I hate paperwork.

So; if you are a new visitor... I beg you to return. There will be more stuff and the lame image-hoster may function again, for a time and the archives will have stuff. I will continue to make and post new stuff, repost and re-comment on old stuff and promise to build an AI to generate post nuclear stuff.

Looking at my Zoto account page ("Upgrade now!") tells me that I have 4172 photos uploaded (most, linked-to in my blog) and my account is PAID until January 2011. Unbelieveable. I would gladly pay more, but nobody is asking me to. The GUI is great, I love the way the whole service is laid out, but there is no hope left. I even found one of the founders on Facebook, but he isn't answering my ~~pleas~~ messages.

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Latest: Went down to Minnesota and hung around with the guys at Anurag Art. They have a new, official, website, AnuragArt.com. Please go and check it out. My Anurag fansite, Anurag Art Online, will continue to operate and function as a more variable/weird/random outlet for thems and us. Unfortunately, it has probably been harmed by the fall of Zoto.com, as well. I will post and re-post stuff there, shortly.

The Zackster, at Anurag, has built himself a new house and has started to gussy-up the place. He asked me to paint him a mural (to start) and gave me a pride of place in the cathedral-ceiling living-room, alongst the stairway.

The shape and placement of the piece suggested to me, the classic DuChamp imagery of "Nude Descending Staircase2". A great composition that heralded the arrival of Cubism (OK, OK; there are probably earlier exemplars. Use "comments" to expound.), but did not suggest (to I) his later weird shit, that seems to have more in common with punk rock and Dada. See signed urinal ("Fountain").

Anyways

The piece that I am working, for Zackster, suggests evolution, or devolution. There will be critters, werecows, crack-penguins, ecstasy, squid, tools and other bits. With a little taste of "Indian" (feather, not dot). Currently in a state of pencil-sketch and first-paint.

Panel, left: Squiddy thing.

Panel, centre: Bird thingeys and fishy thing.

Panel, right: Human skeletal thingey with transformation thingamajiggy.

Entire piece, with "first paint" thrown (angle slightly skewed).

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BingoRage midsummer '09 studio update

2009-08-03T05:22:00.002-05:00

Heyo, BingoRagers!
I know, I know...
It has been a while. But, rejoice; there are many pics, below.

There is also a little bonus: A short story by "yours, truly".
It is, however, a bit naughty. Bad language, "wild men" and adult situations, so to speak. So, don't read it to your kids at bedtime.
Kids don't read much, nowadays, so we shouldn't worry about them burning out their hippocampus on this posting.

I can't remember where I found the Sasquatch sign; will post if I can find source.

---

Here is an important lecture. Canadian author and essayist, John Ralston Saul, makes the case that Canada is based not on the "European model", but on a "conversation with Aboriginal Peoples". I am not sure how long this CBC audio link will last, so listen, or download, immediately and listen at your leisure. CBC "Ideas" radio show.

Direct download
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(Pics click to enlarge.)

Sorry, folks. The giant "space-tick" on the side of the T-Bird's head had to go. See first set of "T-Bird/Sturgeon" painting, here.

Oh Christ. Not another "sky-snake". Can't we go five minutes around here without a dragon?

Wings?... That's original.

Aha! Pinkeye!
It's the leechy conjunctivitis, dicussed below.

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This "Old Man" mask has been around the block, never finding its right hue. Maybe I have finally found it.

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Rainbow and god-hammer, over Ranier, MN.

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Minus 3 000m.
Chalk, on black paint background, with acrylic paint additions and highlights.
Painted on masonite board. Clearcoated, for install.

"Dumbo Squid"; google it, if you don't believe me.

Installed, at SpiritFire Park.

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JohnnyCat

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"Yellow Face" thing. New canvas. Will undergo change.

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Rushing River; West of the highway.

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Leech Water

Something loud disrupted my nap. It had to be loud, to cut through a light, rye hangover and the gyrating dream shadows of a recent ex, on the back of my eyes. She was in the middle of performing an act that I had never been able to persuade her of, before.

"Oh fuck."; I was made suddenly aware that I was sleeping, dreaming and fantasising, facedown, on a filthy carpet in the middle of a room. My eyes felt like they were flailing in a sack. A greasy, sticky sack. Sideways.
Thankfully, it was my own living room.

It was nearly midnight, according to the watch under the couch. A watch that I had been looking for, the last three months. The entire afternoon and evening had been spent drinking, smoking and sculpting. Mission accomplished on the drinking and smoking, but the small mountain of modeling clay in the garage still looked like a pile of rainbow turds that a baboon had been playing with, on a brown boulder, for only about three minutes.

Somebody was pounding at the door, demanding entry. After battling my way to a standing position, I freshened my drink with whiskey and orange pop. After the first tasty swig, I wandered towards the door, but stopped, to check out the visitor in a side window. I was momentarily repelled by the awful visage in the glass, I nearly gagged, before realising that it was a reflection. I lit a cigarette to quell the butterflies and flipped on the outside light.

The gentleman caller at the front door is known to me. He's called 'Dirty Jesus'. He's twitchy-lookin', tonight. More so, than usual. He was clutching something... dingy, off-white, in his grubby paws. The sickly yellow of the porch's bug light does nothing for his complexion, either. The doorbell rang again, followed by a pounding fist.

"What the fuck do you want?... Do you know what time it is?" I walked over and pounded on the door twice as loud as he had, to punctuate my voice.

"Hey man, I gotta show you this... This thing. Lemme in!"

"Fuck off. I'm busy."

"Busy?
Busy, what!? Jerkin' off and making ugly lumps uh shit that nobody wants?"

I took that bait without hesitation. I whacked at the chains and locks and ripped the door open with the full intention of stomping Dirty Jesus... With all the artsy love that I could muster.

I lunged out and jerked to a clumsy stop.
I was staring at the wrong end of a can of pepper foam. It was right at face level. That can had gone missing my from apartment a few weeks before, but I hadn't reallyreckoned Jesus as one of the primary suspects.
I had used that shit on guys before and I knew what it could do.

"You... fuck."
It came out as a hushed hiss.

I stumbled back, yanking on the door, but he stuck both of his scabby hands, my stolen mace and a dingey styrofoam tub, through the opening. The door smashed his leather-sleeved forearms, but he held to the can of pepper foam.

I might have disarmed him at that moment and avoided the rest of that wretched evening, but something, wet and warm, splashed in my eyes. I reeled back in anticipation of pain and stumbled over my rubber boots. I fell against and then through the broom-closet door. My vision wobbled as I blinked. I could see.

My eyes stung a bit, but not pepper-foam sting.

His head came through the door, eyes rolling around, searching for something. His trailing arm popped through the opening, waving around a small, poorly-sealed styrofoam tub. More drops of liquid splashed on the carpet.

"What the fuck!!", I yelled. The liquid in my eyes had begun to sting. Enough to make me squint, but not badly enough to keep me down. I had to roll over a pile of boots, squinting and consciously abandoning all remnants of dignity, in order to get up.

By then, Dirty Jesus had closed the door behind him and messily locked it. Also, he had trotted into the living room and homed-in on my whiskey-orange pop cocktail.

I call the recipe "Musty Prairie Tangerine". Pour, in order: 1) 2 Gills of Rye, 2) 1 Gill cheap orange pop, 3) Handful of fresh, clean ice cubes, 4) 6 dashes Worcestershire sauce 5) 1 Gill Soda Water (Bottled mineral soda water, preferable to soda gun).

I was rubbing my eyes, madly, yet took notice of my unwelcome guest's tweaking, hangdog demeanour. He was a mass of microscopic, marionette-like movements. His eyes had the unceasingly jerky blank stare of several days' missed sleep. He was using every last scrap of concentration to maintain. Wisely, I granted him the depressant and headed to the kitchen to make, us both, another one. My right eye is beginning to water and burn, however.

"What the fuck did you splash in my eye?!!!", I yell, over my shoulder.
Dirty Jesus stood up and walked into the kitchen hallway. He stood there, vibrating. A slow mask of comprehension bloomed on his grubby, sunburnt face; then, a nervous half-grin. He doesn't say a damned thing.

"What... the fuck... is in that fuck-ing bowl?... In my e-y-e?"

He was standing in front of me, with his eyes and mouth open, but was someplace else. I waited and he came back in a minute. His face moved again. He breathed in, licked his lips and says... "Leeches.".

"Leeches?"

"Yeah..." He smiled, nodded, shrugged his shoulders, twitched his eyes and let out a short laugh, kinda all at once. "... leeches".

"Fuck!!!"

I bowed, roughly, into the sink, ramming my diaphragm on the counter-ledge. I run the cold water, opened my eyes and shake my face under the stream. It's a real bitch to open the eyes, but I forced them with my fingers and let the amazingly good tap water blur my vision. Canadian municipalities, of a certain size, love to rip up the streets and constantly upgrade the pipes. The water's great, but the air quality sucks.

I know leeches; I use them alot.

For fishing. They're scrappy live bait; hardy and effective. You can keep them in your fridge for months without feeding them, if you change the water and flush the leech shit out of it. The tepid nature of the liquid and burning effect of it in my eye convinces me that it was full of various leech excretions and may never have been refrigerated, since it left the bait shop.

Dirty Jesus is exactly the kind of fuck that wouldn't change his leech water. Too ignorant of the ways of live bait; no fisherman, by any stretch.

The cold, hard tap water makes my eyeballs feel raw, but better than burning. Both eyes are open, under the stream. Now, they are cool, no... cold. I had flushed them as well as possible, but would have to watch the mirror for a few days to scout for signs of some exotic, leechy conjunctivitis.

After the water stops, I squeeze the water from my long hair and wipe my face with the dirty dish towel. No paper towels. I felt waterlogged and greasy at the same time, but cleaner. My eyes no longer burn.

Dirty Jesus is no longer in the hallway. When I enter the living room with two new drinks, he is sitting in my chair, drinking the last two fingers of his Musty Prairie Tangerine.

"This is pretty tasty... Like one of those fancy salad dressings."

I place another in front of Dirty Jesus. He smiled and offers a pack of obscure American cigarettes. I took one of the smokes that he offered and sat down, across the table. He got comfortable on the couch. He knew me well enough to know that I wasn't going to toss him out... yet. I reached down with a napkin and picked up the pepper foam spraycan, without taking my eyes off him. It was about half empty.

"You dirty fuck."

"I had to borrow it, at your rent party, last month. Someone was gonna beat the shit outta me!"

"You borrowed it off my desk, without asking me or telling me about it." I managed not to snap at him, but had to remind myself to breathe, after saying this. I paused, leant back and closed my eyes while counting to ten. The little scared part of us that we all share, the monkey mind, wanted to scream at him. To punish him.
I regained my calm.

"Who was going to beat... 'the shit' out of you?"

I couldn't keep the hint of a sneer out of my voice, but I did not yell, or raise my tone, or volume.

"Your old lady."

This time, it was I that went silent and motionless for a minute. I chewed the information and its implications.

"You stole a can of extremely dangerous chemical eye, lung and skin irritant from me, because my 'old lady' was going to beat 'the shit', out of you?"

"Yeah..."

"Presumably... then... You were planing to spray my 'old lady's' eyes, face and mouth with this extremely dangerous eye, lung and skin irritant?"

"Yeah."

"Right. Now you are here... and you have brought my can of pepper foam back...
and it is half empty.

"Yeah."

"Right.
We've got a problem, you and I."

"Really?... What?"

I clenched my fist around the can and growled out "Where the fuck, is the rest of this can
-and- did you fucking use it on someone I care about, you fucking fuck?"

Dirty Jesus hesitated a moment, glancing up to check his memories, then says... "No."

I smile, warily, and then ask "Whom, or what, did you spray with this pepper foam?"

"I think it was a cop?... She may have been a cop."

I have, so got to, lose this can soon, tonight. Permanently disappear it.

"... Dirty Jesus?..."

"Yes, Aaron?..."

"Why are you carrying around a tub of leeches?"

"Well, Aaron... You ever get off while playing with jello?"

Now there was a question. "This has got to be good.", I thought to myself.

There may be a 'payoff', after all, for this evening's disgraces. There come rare moments, in our lives, when we can sit back and enjoy the cosmic joke. Precious clarity often found on those crazed, toxic shittrains that were our productive nights. If I could just chill, for a little while, I was going to hear a great story. Dirty Jesus was crazed and delusional, but he was a street-poet of the first water and a charmed adventurer. If you could create the right space in your head for him, he would fly you to the stars, drag you through the sewage and make you laugh through bloodied lips. Most people took a look at him and tried to put something else between them. Something wide and tall.

I lay back in the chair with my drink and cigarette. "No.", I said, " Tell me about it."

"Well ya see, there was this really creepy chick following me around the fishing tackle section at SportsWorld. I caught her looking at me, while I was feeling the plastic grubs. I love the way they feel between the fingers when you squish them. The dry ones squish real good, but the new, wet ones that come in their own pickle juice can make me come when I stick my hand in a big jar of these wet, fake worms in dayglo colours, floatin' in a big jar of stinking nectar that makes me, even me, wash my hands. There's no way that I can afford to buy one of these jars, ya dig; they're 20 bucks a pop. I imagine the day when I can bring one home; but, instead, I go to these big, fancy sports shops at odd hours, so that there are few customers or clerks around so I can wander to the tackle section, find the plastic grubs aisles and find a jar of my favourite grub colours... open it carefully, take a look around... make sure no one's lookin'. Then, carefully so's it don't spill on your clothes, puts my hand in. Just one hand, ya dig?
That japanese bug juice comesaspillin', overflowing, slowlydrippin', everstinkin'.
Don't get any on your shoes, your pants or your other hand.

Now; close your eyes and get to squishin'. Not too fast at first, loosen up, jes' swirl your fingers 'round, feel them gathering on your fingers. Now, gather as much, into a ball, as you can and slowly make a fist. Don't let any out! Slowly squeeze, feel it getting tighter, smaller, harder. Suddenly, pieces come squirtin' out your fingers, wriggling like they're alive.

If you do it right, it's a surprise and makes me cream my shotes."

"Dirty Jesus...", I interject, "You, are a profoundly disturbed human being.

"Yeeeaaahhh... I know."

"Why don't you just steal a jar?"

"That would be wrong!"

"Of course... Continue."

"I never got to cream my shotes, 'cause I heard a noise, opened my eyes and saw this really ugly woman staring at me from the end of the aisle.

I'm fucked and I knows it, so I pull a Heyoka routine: "I'm Okay! I'm Okay.", I shout at her. "I fell in, but I'm okay. I'll get a napkin." I pulled my hand out and make like I'm catching the drippings, but make sure not to get any more on me and started walking towards the bathroom. Well, I guess that I hadn't fooled her, 'cause she starts following me, but always a couple aisles over, not even pretending to look at the prices of coats, trail mix, or rifle brass. I don't see a walkie talkie, but she's talking to someone I can't see and what's my luck that there's a crazy lady following me from the tackle section of SportsWorld at 7 A,M, in the fucking morning? None, that's what. I looks down the store and see a couple monkeys in blue vests hanging around the bathroom door and trying not to look at me and 'oh fuck, I'm so busted'. There's no way to get out of this yuppie shit-hole aaannnd wash my hand of the damn sushi-juice..."

[Say "sushi-juice", three times fast.]

"and I'm gonna get it all over my clothes before this is over.

I know that you've covered yourself in fox-piss and sat on a rock, waiting for a stupid deer to come by, so you know what I'm talking about, you fuck, so don't you dare laugh.

So, I fucking ran. Cut left and headed straight to the closest emergency exit, but that pimply butt-faced lady cut me off and I ran towards the live bait kiosk, hoping that there was a back door to the 'employees only' section, where government law mandates an external egress, but was dead end. So I did the only thing I could; took out the pepper foam that you lent me and stuck my hand and a tupperware pitcher inna big leech tank to throw water at 'em."

"I did not lend you the pepper foam... Leech tank?"

"I didn't know it was the leech tank. Jest grabbed a handy container and stuck my hand in. I swirled my hand around... and it was just like the world's biggest jar of synthetic, salty, juicy, whale-flavoured flesh-bait that I had ever put my hand in, but without the dayglo colours or the stink.

It got too cold, actually. As the three employees entered the little room, I lost the feeling in my hand. My good hand.

I was jugglin' the can of mace you gave me, in my wrong hand, trying to get it to point right. The woman stares at my arm in the leech tank and she says 'My God, he's doing it again.' I figured that keeping my hand in the tank was giving me some sort of advantage in the situation, so I left it there... couldn't feel it no more, anyways.

'Don't come near', I says, "my hand's in there!'.

One of the monkeys said 'Maybe it's a suicide attempt... we should call someone.'
Then the girl starts to cross the room, sticking to the wall. 'Stay back!', I yells, but she keeps on comin' and says 'Let us call someone and help you', so I gave her a taste of the foam on her neck and mouth. She stops walking and blinks and wipes at the gunk on her face, then she drops to the floor, squealing and rolling like the tail you rip off a lizard...
If it could squeal.

The two monkeys stare at her, then they they stare at me, then they take a step into the room.

'I warned you!' I screams at them and rip my soggy, frozen hand out of the water...
and then things got weird.

I couldn't feel a damn thing, but the pale, firm appendage in front of me was covered in black globs that lay flat and weaved from side to side, dark boogers that hung and stretched and little tentacles that waved hello at us. Well, I nearly fainted. One of the monkeys ran screaming and the other just stood still as a rock and stared. The big girl still rolled on the floor but wasn't yellin' any more. 'I am leavin this shit-hole!', I yelled at blue monkey #2 walking towards the doorway of the live bait kiosk and monkey #2 backs into a corner of the little room, never turning his back to me. Then I run.

There are a couple more blue vests between me and the main door, but I shake leeches on them when they get close and I maced a big, tall customer in the doorway to keep 'em busy. Then I came here."

"... Oh my." I stood up and went to refresh my drink, fudging the measures. I took a slug and threw in an ice cube, for balance. I did not offer to top off his drink. I did begin to plot how to get him out of my place and stash him far away, for a couple days. I returned to my seat.

"Okay, DJ. This is how it's going to go: I am walking you to the 7-11 and calling my cabbie. He will take you to my cousins place upriver. You'll stay there for a couple nights. The cabbie will not give you the fare money. He will not take you somewhere else. He will not put up with your shit, nor will my cousin. I am giving my cabbie the rest of this pepper foam; he will get rid of it for me, but he will also use on it your crazy ass if you fuck with him.
Do you understand?"

It took a long moment. "Yeah."

My cousin owed me a shitload and didn't have any wife or kids to worry about. He also had a crappy cabin that would be like a fucking castle to Dirty Jesus. I have to remember to tell Brian, 'my cabbie', not to drive there in a straight line.

"Mix it up a bit, so Dirty Jesus can't find his way back there."

Him, I owe, huge. He's got enough juice with his cab company to get a legit car for days at a time, as long as the lease is paid, tank's full and no damage. He's also got a legit driver's license, legit hack license and no record. He looks pretty square, with Buddy Holly glasses and can pass for a banker with long sleeves covering his tats. Normally, he's expensive to hire out for special projects, but I find him things. Things that others cannot find, or would never touch. His wife loves my paintings. She has many.

"Tell me, Jesus... before we go; Where'd you get the tub and why did you keep some of these leeches, here?"

"I went down to the docks and picked up a bait tub that someone threw away. There was alotta them, down there. Tubs, that is. By that time there were only a few left hanging on my hand. I found a lid that fit and came here."

"Okay. But... Whyyy, did you keep the leeches?"

"Ooohhh.
I'm gonna teach them the exotic Ojibway Walleye dance."

"Oh. Good...
Let's get of here."

We left.

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First strawberries at farmer's market LinkyPost

2009-07-16T16:39:00.000-05:00

New water product, just in time for 25'th anniversary.

10 named to residential school 'survivor' group

"Ten former students of Canada's notorious Indian residential schools have been appointed as advisers to the federal government's Truth and Reconciliation Commission, as it prepares to begin hearing from ex-students across the country...."

It used to be a rare event, when a tornado would touch down in Canada. Even our prairie provinces were a little too far north for that. But, lately, Tornado Alley seems to be creeping northwards. Three tourists were killed last week, by a tornado, in Ear Falls, Ontario. And, that is way the hell up north of here. And by here, I mean the Ontario/Minnesota border; Minnesota, formerly being the tail end of Tornado Alley. "No climate-change"; my ass.

Interesting discovery by Japanese scientists; a single-celled predator that, essentially, turns into a plant after eating a specific algae. Later, when it reproduces by splitting, one half is predator, again, while the other daughter remains a plant. Amazing.

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Beaver dam and pond, highway #71.

Dragonfly on the beadwork, Fort Frances farmer's Market.
Dragonfly on the beadwork, Fort Frances farmer's Market. Bingorage. Broken Vulture Art.">

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What may be the oldest example of Native Art, in the Americas. Not everyone is convinced, especially since North American archaeology has been burned before by a fraudulent "mammoth etching", the "Holly Oak Pendant.

Archeological evidence of human activity found beneath Lake Huron. At the end of the last ice age, there was a land bridge across what is now part of Lake Huron, that hasi since been covered by water. There has been a recent sonar survey and underwater camera investigation that indicates that there is a surviving paleo-hunter monumental artifact, resembling caribou hunting "drive walls" from the arctic, today.

"Study shows that Maya intensively cultivated Manioc, 1400 years ago." Manioc is also known as Cassava, and is the basis for tapioca.

In the Spirit: Contemporary Northwest Native Arts Exhibit, Washington state History Museum, July 9 - August 30, 2009.

Challenging Traditions: Contemporary First Nations Art of the Northwest Coast, McMicheal Canadian Art Collection, June 27 - September 20, 2009. Critical review of the show at TheStar.com.

Native blog; Native American Interests.

Another Native blog; Urban Native Girl Stuff.

Here's a commercial art site, Native Art Cedar House, with great Northwest Coast pieces.

Man returns rare bowl to Sto:lo nation.

Squamish Lilwat Cultural Centre in Whistler, B.C.. Whistler was a common ground, where the two cultural areas overlapped, interior and coastal.

Right-click and "save as"; John Ralston's "We Are a Metis Nation" (mp3) segment from CBC "Ideas" program. Link may only be available for a few weeks/ a month.

ALAS Ontario; Artists’ Legal Advice Services - Ontario.

Crystal Shawanda will be joining the Native Music Rocks festival dates in August and September.

"Nelson-Atkins Opens New American Indian Galleries in November".

---
I ran across a good series of articles about the looting of Native American artifacts in the Southwest: Southwest Indian relics: In search of cash
Part 1
Part 2
Part 3
Part 4
Part 5

Apparently; the bad economy, endemic racism and the blossoming of meth addiction in the southwest is creating a feedback loop, driving more grave-robbing.

A large, federal bust of grave-robbing family, in Utah.

"Historical sites near U.S. border at risk for looting. Strict penalties may be sending thieves north to Canada"

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"The Native Women’s Association of Canada’s Annual General Assembly (AGA) will hold a Trade Show on the evening of Friday, September 25, 2009. The Trade Show is a juried exhibition to promote a high quality event for Aboriginal female artists. The primary basis for acceptance is quality, originality and craftsmanship of the Aboriginal artwork to be sold. No percentage of the artist’s sales is retained by the organizer." Download application document.

Trickster art: The digital storytelling of Chris Bose.

"... I've collected thousands of images, many of them from archives, of residential schools -- photos of Indian children in uniform, photos of Indians being measured with rulers. Over the last fifteen years, I've worked in the buildings where residential schools used to be. I've explored these places and found secret passages, heard ghosts. I'm fascinated and traumatized by them. Residential school is our hidden holocaust. The residential school is always going to be in my art and in what I do until I figure out a way to destroy it..."

Very conservative woodlands-style artist, Stephen Snake at Tay River Art Gallery, in Perth Ontario until August 30.

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Todd Harder (Creek) is a skateboard business-owner featuring Native Art and artists on his skateboard deck designs. The pic at the end of the link features a deck design by BingoRage Fave, Bunky Echo Hawk.

These designs are being featured at the Smithsonian National Museum of the American Indian, this summer, in a show entitled Ramp It Up: Skateboard Culture in Native America.

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Running at Urban Shaman, in Winnipeg, Manitoba; Peter Prince & Jackie Traverse, July 16 through to August 8, 2009 (link expires with show).

2009 VisionMaker Video Contest. "Elder Voices, Youth Choices" - Deadline: Sept. 1, 2009.

"... NAPT seeks to engage today’s youth by aiding in the development of their storytelling abilities through video. Contestants will produce a short video that relates to this year’s theme: Elder Voices, Youth Choices. The contest is open to legal residents of the U.S. and its territories who are 14-21 years of age at the time of entry..."

LA's Southwest Museum (major collection of Native Art) underwent renovation of building and restoration of Native Art collection.

Charles Eastman gets a crater on Mercury named after him.

Transom.Org posted a story, with clips, about the importance of radio to Native America in the hinterlands. Tribal Radio.

" This past May, we spent nine days driving around the southwestern United States visiting some of the 33 Native American reservations that have their own radio stations. We knew before the trip that tribal radio would be unique but there was no way to predict how much so. Every station we visited was a different mix of professional old hands, volunteers, elders, youth, tradition, and innovation. The more community members we spoke to, the more clear it became that radio, often dismissed as outdated for the Web 2.0 era, was the most essential medium of communication in Indian country, whether it was serving a reservation the size of a small European country or one just a few square miles long..."

Native Communications Society of the Northwest Territories Audio Library.

"... The Online Audio Library is a PERMANENT AND FREELY ACCESIBLE INTERNET RECORD not only for NWT rresidents or Canadians but also for anyone in the world interested in Northem culture, traditional lifestyle and special northem events and meetings..."

Alaska Natives / Native Americans Call for Art; "This is Displacement: Native Artists Consider the Relationship Between Land & Identity". Deadline; August 10, 2009.

Indigenous Peoples Issues and Resources.

100 Awesome Open Source Tools for Writers, Journalists, and Bloggers.

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2009, OAC Northern Arts Grant Application, Supplement

2009-07-10T05:44:00.024-05:00

Heyo BingoRagers; I salute yous.

Heyo OAC jurors/panelists; welcome to the BingoRage! Thanks, in advance, for taking the time to check out this extra material, on your own time. I spent a week reading applications this spring and I appreciate the extra effort.

So, here's the deal:

I am applying for an Ontario Arts Council (OAC), Northern Arts Grant, in collaboration with Spirit Fire Park (the park"), in Devlin, Ontario.

The grant application is seeking to fund four project elements:
- The extension of a multipurpose mural-wall, with a "theatrical-stage" background element at the park.
- The delivery of a mural-painting workshop for local youth program, UMAYC (fort Frances) (with a contingent paintball event, depending on United Native Friendship Centres program safety guidelines), culminating in a two-day mural-painting event at the park.
- The construction and installation of monumental papier-mache sculpture in the park, including: a) premade elements molded on steel, foam and clay armatures, and b) smaller elements constructed onsite, with a methodology developed through the "Arthur, Warrior and his Bow, Excalibur" project.
- The public "presentation"/opening of the park's new installations, including a performance by NorthWestern Ontario's well-known musician, Rodney Brown and a guided "theatrical tour" of the park. Mr. Brown's repertoire includes historical songs about the region. The park's campground will be opened to the public in order to encourage an intimate relationship with the land and the art.

This blog-posting will be updated throughout the grants application process so that application jurors/panel will have the opportunity to review materials that wouldn't fit in the application packet. That includes updated materials that come-to-be after the application deadline and older stuff that would never fit.

As far as I know, no other OAC or CCA grant application has been, essentially, shared outside the jury process. I hope that by doing so, that the entire project will benefit by word-of-mouth and word-of-social network. As well, I hope that this publication of the effort will lead to increased grant application success in "the north", as well as for other artists outside the major urban/art centres.

Works on this site fall under a Creative Commons "Non-commercial, Share-alike" License (see sidebar). You can reuse them, with attribution, for non-commercial purposes. If you want to use it as an assist for preparing your own grant application, please attribute appropriately. If there is something in the post, or elsewhere on the blog, that you would like to make into a t-shirt or major motion picture, then we need to "par-lay".

"TinyURL" for this posting is : http://tinyurl.com/m9t6gv

[All pics click to enlarge.]

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First off; I mentioned the "test-wall" in our grant application, but didn't include a picture in the supplemental materials. We built a section of our proposed wall with sponsor, Lakewood Tire (Fort Frances), in the summer of 2007.

The mural-wall consists of: upright posts cemented into the ground by concrete, connected by plywood sheets, kept upright by 2"x4" lumber braces (until concrete dries) and protected by latex exterior paint, which also serves as a neutral background for mural installation.

My buddy, Joseph Carlson, proprietor of Spirit Fire Park and our project's engineer and landscaper.

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Recent additions to the test-wall include park logo, paintball team logos, sculptural elements and safety instruction.

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Some Google "Sketchup" mockups of the "mural-wall" extensions. The proposed actual additions will will be in a slightly different configuration (coming). For instance, the theatre stage background will be narrower, with beveled "wings" and a sand-pad "stage", instead of a poured concrete pad (for now).

The proposed layout of the mural wall will differ from these initial sketches and will be updated shortly.

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T-Bird Finally Catches Sturgeon.

2009-07-07T17:57:00.005-05:00

Heyo, all BingoRagers.
Sorry for the long drought of new material, here. I have been spending much of my time preparing a grant application for my Broken Vulture Art and my buddy, Joe's, Spirit Fire Park. Fortunately, this period has also seen the creation of much new material.

I hereby present the evolution of the newest canvas;

"T-Bird -Finally- Catches Sturgeon"

All pics click to enlarge

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I began this painting by sketching the major elements with coloured chalk on a primed canvas.

Detail of "T-Bird" head, in-progress.

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Wikipedia entries for thunderbird (T-bird) and sturgeon.

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"The PinkCanvas", part 2

2009-06-16T04:33:00.005-05:00

Welcome back to "The Pink Canvas", BingoRagers!!

Since the last posting, I have actually made progress with this piece and another painting project. Furthermore, I have started work on a sculptural installation at Spiritfire Park in Devlin. Updates on that project to follow.

I will be finishing a piece for the upcoming Renew Festival in Kenora.

Previous posting at BingoRage, "Pink Canvas" - Part 1

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All pics click to enlarge.

I wanted to use some spray paint on this canvas, so I masked-off the duckhead and took the whole shebang outside to apply it.

Add some colour to the figures.

Starting to fill in the headdress feathers.

The duck figure is not eating the human figure, but looming close to musically whisper.

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The current incarnation of "The Pink Canvas". I guess that I will have to rename it.
Maybe something like: "The Whisper"? ... "Duck Music Meat"? ... "Bubbles, Chief, Tune and Mallard"?
You know... something artsy, mysterious and full of angsty implications.
Let me know what you think, pass this post along to like-minded weirdos, etc.

:Eric

Update June 17, 2009.
Spent some time on the piece; in the studio, last night

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June frost linky post

2009-06-04T04:24:00.000-05:00

Facebook deleting accounts with Native names, assuming that they are fake. No warnings, or consultation.

A Battle Worth Fighting: The First Nation Vs. The Washington Football Team.

"... Professional teams are still using derogatory and defaming logos and names for their teams. The National Football League’s Washington D.C. Football Club and Major League Baseball’s Cleveland Indians are the number one culprits..."

Thunder Bay mom wants answers after teacher's aide chops off son's hair.

"... The seven-year-old boy had chin-length hair before the incident last month. His mother said staff at McKellar Park Central Public School were aware her son was letting his hair grow so that he could take part in traditional First Nations dancing..."

The Great Ethanol Scam.

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New Bingorage Links Page, for directory partners.

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Galactic Center of Milky Way Rises over Texas Star Party from William Castleman on Vimeo.

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Sewing the Seeds: 200 Years of Iroquois Glass Beadwork. Rockwell Museum, Corning, New York; May 23 - October 4, 2009.

Another Native Art blog, Shawllady’s Blog.

"Native shawls, paintings and prints."

Free beading patterns. For the beginning beader.

Hate Crimes at UIUC - Beyond the Chief exhibit vandalized for 5th time on May 20, 2009 - in broad daylight.

EscapePod has an interesting, Native-themed short story this week, Harry The Crow. The story explores the theme of robot-struggling-to-be-human; humorous and almost familiar.

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New Tim Giago articles.

Memorial Day Speech at Black Hills National Cemetery

It's Time for Native Americans to Start Thinking Independent

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Native American placenames, interactive map at National Geographic.

Will Lahti sent me a fishing update from Finland.

Home site for Michael Kelley, Navajo bronze artist.

Runway Beauty Native America; applications being taken for 2011 calendar.

Minneapolis Institute of the Arts exhibit; Symbolism in Ceremony: Art Inspired by the Native American Church. March 31, 2009 - August 9, 2009.

Native Insight competition. "Thoughts on Recession, Recovery & Opportunity" Deadline; September 15, 2009.

Art Bozeman blogpost re: Molly Murphy & Friends: Native American Beading. June 5 – July 24, 2009.

Canadian Aboriginal Science and Technology Society (CASTS) 2009 conference seeking registrants. August 12, 2009 - August 14, 2009.

Ottawa Art Gallery exhibit, Burning Cold. June 18 - August 30, 2009.

"A group exhibition of up-and-coming artists, Burning Cold represents a multiplicity of voices and cutting-edge media. It explores unique aesthetic and cultural issues, and seeks to broaden the awareness and understanding of emerging contemporary art practices and issues in Northern and Southern Canada. The artists included in this exhibition employ divergent, original and sometimes unconventional artistic strategies to deal with a variety of themes and issues, such as populous and remote communities; interconnectedness and isolation in urban and rural environments; the diverse cultural, social and aesthetic experiences of northern Aboriginal peoples; and the “myths” of the North versus the “realities” of the South."

World's oldest birchbark canoe to remain in Canada.

"The 200-year-old canoe will next move to the Beaverbrook Art Gallery in Fredericton as part of a native art exhibit to begin June 21."

Indian Grinding Rock State Historical Park

Awesome sculpture artist, Jeniffer Maestre, using beadwork techniques (peyote stitch) to create sculpture with colouring pencils.

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Dudley George's brother, Sam George dies, shortly after Ipperwash Park is returned to First Nation.
Dudley George was killed at the Ipperwash standoff.

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"The Pink Canvas"; kinda like "The White Album", but different - part 1

2009-05-31T14:51:00.002-05:00

Pics click to enlarge.

Building the frame "box".

Tacking the canvas, at the Spiritfire Paintball Park.

Almost done stretching and stapling canvas onto boxframe.

Done.

Priming the canvas.

Pinking the canvas (oh, alright..."Fluorescent Magenta".).

Initial pencil sketch of "feathered head".

Some lines erased, others defined, some shading added, second eye area begun.

TO BE CONTINUED...

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Dad; at Helliars Resort dock. The folks at Helliars have a gorgeous location on Lake of the Woods and great fishing on their doorstep.

Dad with (his) two great walleye, after skunking me last week.

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Post walleye-opener and walleye-hunt-skunk linky post

2009-05-20T01:27:00.002-05:00

'Arctic exile' monuments to strengthen Canadian sovereignty claim. Inuit artists will help Canada stake sovereignty in the Arctic by creating and installing sculptures, ironically commemorating Inuit communities "exiled" to remote, non-traditional locations.

I think that this is actually a great idea, that the Canadian government should pursue, with vigour. Fund Canadian First Nations people to create and install monumental sculpture throughout the arctic archipelago and create a greater Canadian presence in the North.

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An island has been discovered in Mexico, with a pyramid belonging to the Apupato people, enemies of the Aztec Empire.

Ancient Gem-Studded Teeth Show Skill of Early Dentists

"...The ornamental stones—including jade—were attached with an adhesive made out of natural resins, such as plant sap, which was mixed with other chemicals and crushed bones..."

Stone Age Superglue Found -- Hints at Unknown Smarts?. The title says stone age, which is not very precise. The date for the "superglue" is 70,000 years. The ingredients are acacia resin and red iron oxide. The presence of this "red ochre" in archaeological context has long been considered evidence of ritual or artistic use in prehistoric humans. However, its use as a glue ingredient for tool manufacture means that its presence, alone, cannot be evidence for artistic development in human evolution.

A" closer look contains hints of sham artist, not a shaman". I hadn't been following the Dan Hauser story too closely; "another child of religious folks letting their offspring die from treatable disease because they elected to follow the prayer route", I figured. But, it's worse than that. His parents have fallen for some plastic shaman selling berry juice treatments under a pseudo-Native religious hoo-ha. Apparently the 13-year old is a certified elder and medicine man (after having paid his "donations").

Here is a great new resource for Native historians and treaty researchers, a digitised database of "Documents Relating to the Negotiation of Ratified and Unratified Treaties With Various Indian Tribes, 1801-1869".

'Status Indians' face threat of extinction. Loss of legal "status" through intermarriage to non-natives threatens the Rez, in Canada.

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This clip is a music video for "Indigenous Holocaust" (Link to video notes); song by Ahnishnahbeh artist Wahwahtay Benais. Video by Missy Whiteman.

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see more Lolcats and funny pictures

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Brenda Norrell's 'Censored News' podcast. Native news podcast.

I was glad to meet and work with Metis performer, Paul Chaput, while reviewing grants applications for the Ontario Arts Council.

Daphne Odjig exhibit at Institute of American Indian Arts Museum, Santa Fe N.M., only American venue scheduled. August-September, 2009.

Lakota Sioux woman awarded damages, based on historic treaty. Under a "bad men" provision of the 1868 Fort Laramie Treaty, the woman is to be compensated for being assaulted by a military recruiter.

Pine Needle Productions to shoot feature film

"Darlene Naponse is preparing to shoot a feature film this fall in her home community of Whitefish Lake First Nation. It's a drama about a girl returning home," Naponse says, describing her upcoming film, Every Emotion Costs. It deals with identity and community..."

Another Native Blog, Radical Indian. I may have linked to this blog before, but I wanted to point you all to it again, because it has been flagged by Blogger.com and requires an extra click to view. I didn't see anything offensive on the site, other than news that may be inconvenient to the greater society.

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New Tim Giago articles at Huffington Post:

Native Americans in Black and White. Negative images in the news breeds stereotypes in society.

A Ripe and Rank Case of Dishonest Dealings. The Black Hills are not for sale; but, could they be rented?

A Holiday to Celebrate the Victory at the Little Bighorn. June 25: Death to the Morningstar-oppressor day.

Small Successes Come Hard in Battle Against Mascots. "Fan" means fanatic.

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The Right to Whale. Makah tribe continue push for traditional practice.

London gets first festival of First Nations voicesNative artists, performers and filmmakers get showcase in London, England. Ended May 17.

Code of Best Practices in Fair Use for Online Video. Although these "fair use" "best practices" were developed for U.S. copyright law, they may be handy for Canadian artist's consideration.

'National treasure' may be headed home.

"... only a few dozen totem poles from that period still exist... the late 1800s was a difficult and dark chapter for the Haida. Their population was decimated by diseases such as smallpox. Missionaries and government officials also moved in and tried to separate the Haida from many of their traditions and cultural beliefs... Many were chopped down and burned while others were sold off; the bulk went to museums around the world..."

Buffy Saint Marie's homepage, Creative-Native.

Awaken100.Net "Contemporary Aboriginal Arts And Culture". A Redwire Magazine site. Not much there, yet, but some interesting artist galleries.

8-strand flat braid, at Instructables.com.

Nadya Kwandibens, Ahnishnahbeh photographer from my Rez, NWA#37. Her Myspace.

"2 Disputed Indian Wampum Belts Pulled From Auction".

"... lawyer for the Onondaga nation, said the Onondaga considered the belts community property... no Onondaga had ever had the authority to sell or transfer them... "these belts were originally taken out of these communities without proper ‘title.’... "

Rabbit and Bear Paws Colouring Contest. Any artist, age 3-15, June 1 deadline.

Native American Trade Blankets at Woodson Art Museum. Famed glass artist Dave Chihuly has a collection of 750 Native Trade Blankets, 80 of them on display until June 14 at the Woodson Museum (Wausau, Wisconsin), along with 15 of his blanket-inspired glass pieces.

TVO's "Big Ideas" lecture series presents John Ralston Saul.

"In this lecture, essayist and novelist, John Ralston Saul, presents the themes of his latest book, A Fair Country: Telling Truths about Canada. Central to his text is the argument that Canada is a Metis nation, critically influenced and shaped by aboriginal ideas. He believes we've lost touch with this essential part of our mythology and identity and appeals for a return to the original priniciples of peace, welfare, and good government."

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New life for polygon fish canvas. Ahnishnahbeh Become Maymaygwayshi.

2009-04-30T02:38:00.002-05:00

This canvas has been around the block, for a couple/few years and has undergone a couple/few changes. Just previously, I had used the canvas to help illustrate a portion of the Larry Mitchell biography, Potowatomi Tracks, in a previous Bingorage posting.

The current incarnation of the piece is a scene from an alternate future, many, many thousands of years from now, when the Ahnishnahbeh have evolved to live underwater; becoming... the Maymaygwayshi.

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Ahnishnahbeh Become Maymaygwayshi[All pics click to enlarge.]

Initial configuration:

The Potowatomi Tracks illustration:

The Migisi {Eagle} incorporation. (Look closely):

The current changes made to the piece incorporate elements from the Migisi phase (upside down):

detail

detail

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Post-Tronna linky post

2009-04-28T01:59:00.004-05:00

A native grandmother's epic walk for the water. An Ojibway gramma is walking around the great lakes and down the St Lawrence River to raise awareness of the water system's fragility and importance to all of us.

"... 40 years ago, Akwesasne was known for its farms and fishery, which had thrived for at least 3,000 years and made it a pillar of the legendary Iroquois Confederacy. Henry Lickers, head of Akwesasne's environment department, likes to remind Torontonians that the reserve shipped its extra food to our soup kitchens during the Depression, yet we didn't even notice when its economy disappeared.

The fisherman and farmers were ruined by the industries that came with the St. Lawrence Seaway. Domtar Paper and General Motors poisoned the fish with, respectively, mercury and PCBs. Alcoa pumped so much fluoride into the air that cows' teeth grew brittle and broke, and they died. Pollution also caused the farms to go bust..." (TheStar.com)

Her website, MotherEarthWaterWalk. Josephine (Mandamin) is scheduled to finish the St. Lawrence stretch at the beginning of May.

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Air France plane forced to divert from Am3ric@n air space, because a critical journalist aboard has apparently been flagged for the US no-fly list. If so, then this is further proof that the measures that are supposed to further the safety of Am3ric@an citizens, are instead being used to silence and harass critics of US policies.

"... Do you know how to handle firearms?" I told him that the only time I held one I was very young; it was a shotgun and I was knocked down by the recoil. I never even went through military service, I said. In fact, I added, "my only weapon is my writing, especially to denounce the American government, whom I consider terrorist."
They looked at each other, and the seated man said something I already knew: "That weapon sometimes is worse than rifles and bombs..."

USA paper industry abusing "green law" to create a biofuel subsidy. Pulp and paper mills burn a byproduct called "black liquor" to heat pulp and create electricity for the manufacturing process. American mills are adding diesel fuel to the mix (very unnecessary) in order to qualify for a biofuel rebate; unfortunately increasing the overall amount of fossil fuels that they burn, in the process. The exact opposite of what the rebate was meant to do.

According to spectrographic analysis, the milky way galaxy tastes like raspberries.

"Long Now"; building the 10 000 year clock.

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From FailBlog.Org

see more pwn and owned pictures

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The following clip was found at HiddenFromHistory.org (The Canadian Holocaust). The uploader claims that this interview segment is no longer available at CBC online.

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Katimavik, still alive.

United Nations creates the World Digital Library.

"The principal objectives of the WDL are to: * Promote international and intercultural understanding; * Expand the volume and variety of cultural content on the Internet; * Provide resources for educators, scholars, and general audiences; * Build capacity in partner institutions to narrow the digital divide within and between countries."

Fossil seal, with legs, found in Canadian arctic.

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Graham Greene, speaking at the National Arts Centre, in Ottawa. May 11, 2009.

New Moche culture tomb excavated. "King of Bling" Tomb Sheds Light on Ancient Peru.

"... His body was covered with a tunic and train of tiny gilded copper plates, and his face was covered with two funerary masks—a first, according to Bourget. A necklace of four-inch (ten-centimeter), disk-shaped silver rattles encircled his neck. On his head was a gilded crown. Six more crowns and ten V-shaped headdresses called diadems were arrayed on top of his body..."

Alice Lazore; casino management, Mohawk, beadworker.

US National Park Service, national historic site; Hubbell Trading Post. Apply for their artist in residence position. [PDF link]

Homepage of Navajo singer, Radmilla Cody, Miss Navajo Nation 97-98.

"... Canyon Records recording artist, Indie Award Winner, Indian Summer Award Nominee, and four-time Native American Award Nominee continues to maintain Navajo culture by recording music that children sing with pride and lyrics the Diné elders can be proud of..."

Short essay on the evolution of Native American Art.

"Santa Fe Rotary Foundation for the Arts chose Naranjo Morse as its 2009 Distinguished Artist of the Year."

Native Arts and Cultures Foundation created in Portland, Oregon.

"... to foster indigenous arts in American Indian, Native Hawaiian and Alaska Native communities."

New Native American museum opens in Warner Springs, California.

The Winnipeg Aboriginal Film Festival is now accepting submissions. Earlybird deadline is June 19, 2009, late deadline (with late fee) is July 31, 2009. Festival runs November 18-22.

NativeFilm.com

Waila, Native American polka-based music.

Coast Salish artist creates box for healing.

"... Salish artist Luke Marston of Ladysmith was commissioned by the federal Department of Indian Affairs to create a box to be the centrepiece of the meetings of the Truth and Reconciliation Commission held across Canada... Participants will be invited to put whatever they want into the box, a symbolic act of letting go..."

Ontario boosts arts council budget by $5 million.

Micheal Greyeyes 'official' website.

Canadian National Arts Centre seeking artist submissions for cover of Prelude,NAC magazine. Theme is "The Arts are alive in Canada"; deadline is May 31, 2009.

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New piece in progress, for upcoming Spring art show at Fine Line Gallery: "Threads"

2009-04-16T16:04:00.003-05:00

Working on this piece for upcoming "Threads" theme spring show at Fine Line Gallery, Fort Frances. May 4-29, 2009.

A previous Bingorage posting about Pither's point Park.

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[Pics click to enlarge]
This canvas had a ton of paint ladle on it, randomly, for a while. I had no idea what it wanted to be. When I heard that the spring show theme would be "Threads", I started to get a rough idea of where it might go.

I roughly sketched a thread spool with a pen, and then started to work with it.

At this point, I tried to shape the spool a bit more with outlining and add more definition to the thread, needle and button elements.

A human(?) figure added. There are many stories around the world of "the little people" helping out with craft activities (as well as hindering the process.).

Current incarnation of the "Spool Canvas".
Dimensional definition added to button element, with light and shadow.

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Progress of central figure detail:

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Blast from the past:

Just say NO to deer-hunting with platypi.

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Closed walleye season

2009-04-14T22:49:00.004-05:00

Technically, as an Ahnishnahbeh "Indian Band" member of Grand Treaty #3 with "status", I do not have to absolutely refrain from fishing during the closed walleye season. There are those who exercise their treaty rights to harvest fish for personal use at this time... and I wholeheartedly support their right.
However, I also recognise and respect the reason for the closed season and will wait until the third Saturday in May to bring in the most-favoured meal... walleye!

Until then, sit back, look at these pictures and weep;
for Dad and I are the walleye kings.

I'd like to thank Rainy Lake Sports in Fort Frances for letting us use their scales. We get much of our tackle and bait there. (Pics click to enlarge, see video below.)

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Spring Fever Linky Post

2009-04-10T16:19:00.001-05:00

Public urged to write letters about (Pither's) Point. The 99 year lease on Fort Frances Park expires at the end of April andthe local Rainy River Bands are seeking to reclaim ownership of the land. The town is seeking to "keep" the land, and the governments of Ontario and Canada don't want to have anything to do with the mess.

I attended a "public forum", put on by Andrew Good, local videographer and filmmaker. Some progress was made in discussing the issue, but leaders from the town and First Nations did not attend.

My personal recommendation to townspeople was to contact the Mayor and Council and insist that they not contest ownership of the land, as it should inevitably revert to Band ownership/co-ownership. Contesting this, only wastes town resources.

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Teachers supplement; Alaska Native perspectives on Earth and Climate.

Make a film to explain evolution in two minutes for Discover Magazine, win recognition.

New Native Artists exhibit, REMIX, at the Art Gallery of Ontario; (Star.com review). April 4 - August 23, 2009.

Upcoming arts conference in Winnipeg, for Manitoba and Northwestern Ontario artists. May 28, 2009.

New TED Talks posted! This is a great series of informative and inspiring lectures about the direction and progress of technology, and how it will influence all of our lives.

Zion Flute & Drum Festival. May 15th, 16th, 17th, 2009. Unity Park in Ivins Utah.

Mixed Blood Theater in Minneapolis presents Red Ink. Features two prominent Canadian Native writers; Tomson Highway and Drew Hayden Taylor.

"... Red Ink is a play within a powwow, written as a series of short scenes that explore many aspects of the Native American experience, from casinos and native art to reality television shows. The play explores a side of the Native American experience that is rarely brought to the stage. Commissioned by Mixed Blood Theatre, the writers of Red Ink have been working on the piece for three years, this will be its first production..."

The Royal Conservatory's Artist Educator Skills Development Course [PDF link] supported by Ontario Arts Council. Various dates throughout May and June, various locations in Ontario.

Hugo Awards logo contest. May 31 deadline.

Indigenous news blog, Mama Radio.
Blog of theater producer for Native Theater at NMAI DC.

Short review of U.S. Indian Arts and Crafts Act (IACA), Protecting Natives from Knock-offs.

Native blog, Native History Native Anthology

Northwest Native Arts Market and Festival. May 1 deadline. August 8-9, Tacoma, WA.

Art of the Seminoles exhibit in Maitland Florida, until April 26.

Blackfeet artist, Farrell Cockrum showing at Sky Dog, the Artspace, throughout April. Corrales, NM.

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An interesting review of the Ward Churchill firing, in light of his recent win in court. The author speculates that the University of Colorado may be forced to rehire him. Now, I do not know much about Ward Churchill (Wikipedia link), other than he is an ardent supporter of the Free Leonard Peltier movement and a way-left academic. However, when I was living in Minneapolis, there were always rumblings in the community that he wasn't even Native American. Who Knows? The hatchet job on Ward Churchill may be the last gasp of COINTELPRO.

"... The accusations that fill its pages are the kind scholars regularly hurl at their polemical opponents. It’s part of the game. But in most cases, after you’ve trashed the guy’s work in a book or a review, you don’t get to fire him. Which is good, because if the standards for dismissal adopted by the Churchill committee were generally in force, hardly any of us professors would have jobs... there wouldn’t have been any special investigative committee poring over Churchill’s 12 single-author books, many edited collections and 100-plus articles had he not published an Internet essay on Sept. 12, 2001, saying that the attacks on the World Trade towers and the Pentagon were instances of "the chickens coming home to roost"... These incendiary remarks were not widely broadcast until four years later, when Bill O’Reilly and other conservative commentators brought them to the public’s attention. The reaction was immediate. Bill Owens, governor of Colorado, called university president Elizabeth Hoffman and ordered her to fire Churchill. She replied, "You know I can’t do that." (Not long after, she was forced to resign.) "

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Native Art vandalised, again, at University of Illinois. Perhaps in retaliation for the loss of their racist mascot.

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Smiley omelet.

Dad's great walleye. 4.5 pounds.

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Planned changes for Bingorage website.

2009-04-08T16:36:00.005-05:00

Planned Changes For Bingorage website

In order to make the main page and archive pages load faster: a) Most third party directory links will be assigned to the static "Bingorage Links Page" (BLP) and removed from the blog's template. b) There will be fewer third party scripts running on the front page and archive pages. Third party scripts may run on the BLP. c) The number of posts on the main page may be reduced and smaller, more frequent installments will be posted. e) The page design will be cleaned up, updated and made less glaring. (Not... less colourful.)

The affected link associates will have their directories -and my accounts- updated to reflect the BLP. Directories that no longer have representation on my front page and archived pages will be informed to reflect the update; such directories may remove Bingorage from their database, according to their terms of service, but most will reflect the updated account information, BPL and web site.

Links that are required by my main service providers and media hosters (Blogger, Zoto, Youtube, etc.) will be maintained on the main page and archives.

The advertising footprint will be reduced and made more harmonious with the site.

More written articles with fewer link posts will be made. More of the text will be original Bingorage content rather than quoted third party content in these posts. The news and arts "linky posts" will still have a significant proportion of quoted text, (in blockquotes).

Favourite websites and friends pages will remain in the sidebar.

The most important -or favourite- Bingorage pages will have a prominent link in a remaining, renamed sidebar list. Most important or prominent art projects should have dedicated link and description in its own 'category' list.

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Dad and I went ice-fishing on Clearwater Lake last month, off the Ross Camp property. We got some good size perch.

We found a nice place to fish near the Rainy Lake causeway. Pike and Walleye taken at this location, many lost fish.

Shovelmask contemplates his own reflection.

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Crane, Powwow Dancer (3).

2009-04-08T05:46:00.008-05:00

This piece was finished, in order to be displayed at the ARTifacts show, produced by Willendorphin, for the ARTpreneur conference in Kenora, Ontario; March 31, 2009.

A great event. Good feedback from other artists and representatives of the Ontario Arts Council and Canada Council for the Arts.

Crane Powwow Dancer; Part 1 & Part 2

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{All pics click to enlarge.}

As seen at end of Part 2.

Outlining added.

Shield added.

Addition of leg bells.

Adding "bustle" to the dancer's regalia. Falling leg bell added, without detail.

Detail of sketched bustle.

Facepaint added.

There was a paint spill in front of the crane figure that I tried to use, by converting it into a snake. It didn't really work, so I ended up painting more grass detail, over it. This worked out better, visually, adding to the vertically layered look of the piece.

I wanted to incorporate beadwork into the piece. Specifically, a "collar" around the base of the rattle head. To do so, I removed the work from the wall and positioned it between a table and a large toolbox, so that I could access the underside/back of the piece. This allowed me to embroider the beadwork, sitting down. I was hampered by the placement of the brace lumber piece, but was able to work around it. I laid out the chosen colours of beads and sketched the pattern with a pen.

Detail of the finished beadwork, incorporated into the rattle.

Finished piece; exhibited at Willendorphin production for ARTpreneur conference in Kenora: ARTifacts, March 17 - April 4, 2009.

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A couple of my favourite pieces from the ARTifacts show:

"Barren Angst", by Diane Morley. Her contact info.: dianemorley@shaw.ca

Her statement (Click to enlarge):

"Fork In The Eye", by Kris Goold. Her contact info.: krisg@kmts.ca
Very cool fusion of metalwork to bone.

Her statement (Click to enlarge):

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The installed Crane... and I.

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Bingoragey Linkie Post Thingy

2009-03-30T06:20:00.004-05:00

George Washington University is investigating Guatemalan genocide, under former military regime.

NationTalk.Ca "Canada's Premier National Aboriginal Newswire and Employment Service..."

Well... this smells a little fishy. Learning Together; An Aboriginal approach to mining relationships. A cynic might wonder if this weren't just a mining industry-sponsored lobby group. They are holding a publicly accessible conference in Montreal; April 8-9, 2009. Nearly $500 Can. for late registration.

"Our mandates are as follows:
* The Corporation will work on behalf of all Canadian First Nations to organize, support, and facilitate initiatives through the mobilization of knowledge with the goal of growing long-term business relationships between Aboriginal communities and mining and exploration companies;
* The Corporation will support and coordinate learning opportunities between Aboriginal communities and mining and exploration companies to help facilitate the sharing of information to support business development opportunities;
* The Corporation will organize, provide follow-up services, and help grow forums, workshops, networking sessions, and learning opportunities related to Aboriginal mining in Canada;
* The Corporation will build relationships and coordinate activities related to its mandate with those of similar organizations, societies, and companies in Canada."

Here's a plug for an independent bookseller, Kenora's Elizabeth Campbell Books.

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Comic Art Indigène. National Museum of the American Indian. Washington, D. C. March 6, 2009 – May 31, 2009.
A review, at We Love DC.

Canadian Mohawk painter wins two awards for painting, "Waiting For The Prize".

"... awarded first place in the oil painting category at the 24th Annual Massena Artists Association juried art contest..."

Native News column; RezXtra, by Chris Tyrone Ross.

A great biography blog post at Sirlaugh's Blog, Tonto via Toronto: The Rise and Fall of Jay Silverheels.

McGill University just had a short art exhibit recognising their land's Mohawk history; Hochelaga Revisited.

5'th Annual Cowichan International Aboriginal Film Festival. April16-19, 2009.

Anthrax may be older resident of new world, than previously believed. (Nat. Geo. article) The introduction of a disease that targeted grazing animals near the end of the last glacial period may help explain the disappearance of the pleistocene megafauna.

Local Fort Frances artist and videographer collaborate on short film; The Awakening: Connie Cuthbertson.

Penn Cove Water Festival. Coupeville, WA; May 16, 2009.

"... the newly created Penn Cove Water Festival Association hopes to bring that spirit back to life by educating us on our Native community with not only tribal canoe races but increased Native arts and crafts, demonstrations, storytelling, dance performances, artist demonstrations, authentic Native foods, children's activities, and exhibits and displays..."

Araquin Design

"... Peter Boome is an enrolled member of the Upper Skagit Tribe in Washington State. Peter specializes in Coast Salish designs. In addition to the Salish designs, he also create Contemporary Intertribal Art, this influence stems from spending the latter portion of his childhood on the Northern Ute Reservation In Utah..."

Adam Beach vows to continue intervention in rash of suicides and attempts in Eskasoni, N.S.

Brown Bear Festival "art and music happening for the Monoshone Creek". Philadelphia PA, May 9, 2009.

Website for Native actor, Marcos Akiaten

THE INTERNATIONAL COUNCIL OF THIRTEEN INDIGENOUS GRANDMOTHERS. What do they do? What do they want? Are they offering cookies or guilt?

"WE, THE INTERNATIONAL COUNCIL OF THIRTEEN INDIGENOUS GRANDMOTHERS, represent a global alliance of prayer, education and healing for our Mother Earth, all Her inhabitants, all the children, and for the next seven generations to come. We are deeply concerned with the unprecedented destruction of our Mother Earth and the destruction of indigenous ways of life. We believe the teachings of our ancestors will light our way through an uncertain future. We look to further our vision through the realization of projects that protect our diverse cultures: lands, medicines, language and ceremonial ways of prayer and through projects that educate and nurture our children."

Researchers find the earliest evidence of domesticated maize, in Mexico. 8700 years old!

New Tim Giago article; Choclate Spraypaint and Hollywood Indians.

Terrance Houle: GIVN'R Plug In Institute of Contemporary Art, March 28 to May 16, 2009.

"... Houle's examinations of cultural identity, alienation, assimilation, and Hollywood stereotypes (not to be mistaken as necessarily autobiographical) are intended to provoke. Houle's extensive body of work ranges from painting to drawing, video/film, mixed media, new media, performance and installation, often utilizing tools of mass dissemination such as billboards and vinyl bus signage..."

A Metis blog; Metis Bare Facts."A forum for Metis people to share information, events, views and issues."

I've been hearing/reading about the upcoming PBS mini-series/documentary. We Shall Remain, fo a while now. Ric Burns and Chris Eyre worked on the project; download interview/profile (right-click, "save link as"). Read a review, here.

Squamish Lil'Wat Cultural Centre

I missed posting this before the festival ran. Another Native film festivalSapatq'ayn Cinema, University of Idaho.

In the Spirit: Northwest Native Arts Market and Festival. Tacoma, Washington. August 8-9, 2009. May 1 application deadline.

Yukon Beringia Interpretive Centre

"... Between two continents on the edge of the Arctic lay the ancient place called Beringia. It was a land of ice, giant mammals and the First People of North America... During each Ice Age, vast glaciers formed in the Northern Hemisphere, locking up much of the world's water as ice. Global sea levels dropped as much as 100 - 150 meters as a result, revealing the floor of the Bering Sea and creating a land connection between Alaska and Siberia... This land bridge was part of a larger unglaciated area called Beringia."

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Fort Frances "Relay For Life" painting; 1

2009-03-23T20:45:00.006-05:00

Bingorage quote of the day:

"JohnnyCat... Did you know that your distant ancestors spent alot of time eating my distant ancestors. Evidently we were pretty tasty and easy to catch... and now, I spend alot of good money to feed you and have you go poo on my carpet..."

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Last June, Pam Caine at the Fort Frances Museum asked me to participate in a couple of events linked to the David Thompson Brigade arrival in Fort Frances. One event was the schoolchildren's day out at Pither's Point Park learning about David Thompson, the fur trade and First Nations history, through art activities, games, music and Q&A. The link to my posting about that event and the painting that I created during the event can be found here.

The second event linked to the arrival of The Brigade, was the Fort Frances "Relay For Life". My participation in this event included building a large canvas and beginning a new painting based on my absorption of the events, the land and the people that its "birth" was embedded in.

That day and night were very wet, but I had a spot under the big tent to work in. It was important to keep the electrical cord jacks out of the puddles, but I was able to work and answer questions easily.

I ended up anchoring the canvas to a picnic table, by screwing two 1"x4" pieces to the table and then tacking them to the box structure of the canvas. I ended up leaving the canvas, unattended in the park, for 24 hours after the next morning, so that the paint could dry enough to move it.

The base background of the piece was to be a representation of the Pither's Point Park geography, as seen from the air; a peninsula surrounded on three sides by water.

View Larger Map

Most of the night was spent building and priming the canvas. In order to make a provocative change in the piece and stir my interest in it through the fog of 3AM, I turned the piece on its side and made a significant change in the colour composition.

The black strip was partly inspired by the noir of night and the small details of bright points within it were inspired by the 'lumieres', lit in memoriam to those whom had lost the fight with cancer.

As morning brightened and the numbers of people walking around increased, I finished the initial composition by sketching in some figures and objects, by scratching their outlines in the wet paint with the tail end of a brush.

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Several months passed.

This painting spent some time in my shed and a whole bunch of time in a corner of my studio; throughout deer season and the depths of winter. There was a warming in February, however, and I returned to the piece. The first pic shows the painting, unchanged from the park, but dry.

I've long been waiting to add colour to the heart element of the composition and begin to refine the face element, in "the sky.

Water/wave elements added along the 'North' shore of the PPP representation.

Filling in the David Thompson Brigade/Voyageur canoe representation.

The most prominent element of the composition (so far) has been the "stitched-together-broken-heart". For me, it represents the struggle to repair two distinct "broken hearts": There is the repairing heart of the cancer struggle, representing the 'relay for life' effort and then there is the repair of historic damages done to the land now called Pither's Point Park (burial mound bulldozed, 99 year lease, railway cutting it in half).

A brown 'hill' is added to represent the rebuilt burial mound (yet to be realised).

The 'needle' of the stitching material is being incorporated into a pelican representation, down where the pelicans congregate at the Southeast end of the peninsula.

Last of the 'black stripe' eliminated from the water element at the right side of painting.
Current incarnation of the "Relay For Life" painting, juxtaposed with 'sketch' incarnation.

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Me, silly hat and 3 lb+ walleye, caught through the ice (fish, not hat).

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