Thursday, 9 August 2012

Grad Thesis

My thesis is killing me. I'm stranded in a pile of pages, poetry and non-fiction short stories, one by one putting pieces together but not fast enough, all while wondering what in the world did I get myself into?

And I am here now, amidst the particles of sky and air and wind. Thinking about my home but loving Sto:lo Solh Temexw. In truth after seventeen years, this place here has become my home too and leaving here will be a process unto itself.

I missed the Saskatoon berries yet again this year. I wished for them so bad, every single day the berries were singing. Their berry songs drifting over the mountains and now the huckleberries are calling. Home is land it is sky it is dust, red willows, sage brush. It is so much more.

I am stumped for words with my thesis perpetually on my mind.

Wednesday, 18 July 2012

Cultus Lake

On the water I find peace within myself. Up until the heat wave, I was paddling all the way around Cultus Lake lately almost every day. Some days I follow the beaver. Or have surprise visits from the blue heron and other days the eagles are diving and fishing, singing. I've never heard eagles sing the way I have when I am on the water. It is absolutely beautiful.

There have been several things on my mind lately with regard to Cultus Lake.

1)  Speed boaters can be so inconsiderate of small watercraft, such as canoes and kayaks. They speed by, excessively close and sometimes holler at us as we paddle. It is not only incredibly stupid, juvenile and inconsiderate behavior, it is unsafe for paddlers. I often enjoy surfing the speed boats wake but some of our pullers are young and not as experienced and that is much the same for other people on kayaks. Boaters need to take heed of this when they speed close to us as we paddle.

2) The cost of parking at Cultus Lake. It seems that the Cultus Lake Parks Board has forgotten that they do not own the land and have forgotten that there was a people there long before they arrived. The cost of parking, at $1/hr or $5/all day is ridiculous for people training for sports who are there for 2-3 hours almost 5-7 days a week for as much as 7 months of the year. The traditional war canoe clubs have been training there for over 40 years and even prior to that, travelled that water for thousands of years. Paddling is one form of carrying on ancient traditions of the people now this ridiculous fee is slapped on. The Cultus Lake Parks Board needs to consider another alternative for the canoe club.

3) Cultus Lake is just absolutely beautiful. It is where I find peace. I am so thankful for this life I have been given and for my canoe. When I started paddling and canoe racing, I was given a second chance at life and learned to live in another way, a very traditional way. I suppose up until the point that I started paddling, I was well into learning our cultures and traditions but paddling made me stronger physically and mentally. It challenged me in ways I never would have experienced otherwise and I absolutely love it. I am thankful to be able to practice a sport that is so ancient and rooted within the Sto:lo and Coast Salish culture and way of life.

I think about this as I consider moving home the Nicola Valley. I am so lonesome for my home. I had thought I might move in time to gather but it looks as though that may not happen. I would like to gather sc'eqwem aka shiya or saskatoon berries this year. I will have to find out if they are ready or if I have missed them. In August, I hope to make it to the mountains to gather huckleberries. Sometimes there is just nothing like the smell of sage brush and dust and dry heat.

Monday, 23 April 2012

Huckleberries are my Weakness

Scroll down to page 2
UBYSSEY Newspaper
First Nations Supplement 
(November 23, 2003)

transformation in progress

Blog #2

The closest to flying I've ever been is definitely when I'm running, straight down mountain trails with my arms wide open, mostly for balance but also to feel the air, feel the world on my hands, to feel the blessings in the air... Feet hitting soil, jumping over roots, rocks and running across bridges. The cedar and hemlocks are cathedrals of moss, cedar boughs and ferns...

Sometimes, I stand in random places among the trees, my arms are my branches and they reach for the sky, catching rain drops on each of my fingers. I imagine my roots buried deep within the earth. I pray and consider the moment. Imagine what it is to be a tree, to be in one place roots buried within the earth surrounded by my offspring. The patience of trees to stay in one place is overwhelming. I just want to dance around amidst the trees so they can move through me. I think that is one blessing the wind brings, because when the wind blows the trees dance.

I'm short on words tonight, but I haven't written in here for awhile. I've been amidst a major purging process, cleansing home and mind. Scrubbing my place top to bottom, emptying boxes and throwing things in the trash, dropping things at the thrift store. A time of change and of letting go.

Pardon me, there is a transformation in progress, please have patience as I search for my marbles. Are blogs supposed to be personal? Or what are they anyway? Am I going to regret the flow of words across these pages. One day I suppose I will find out.

Friday, 13 April 2012

Quill & Quire Review

on losing my blog virginity.

So, apparently being an author means you're supposed to write. Well, sometimes writing isn't all that its cracked up to be. I often think very deeply about writing, but then don't get a lot of writing done. After some encouragement from my cousin, Chris Bose and my classmates in my online Creative Writing class, I decided why not try having a blog, so here it is. Now, wtf do I blog about without giving too much away. A blog, isn't it like, free writing, just writing whatever falls out of your mind? I don't know but I shall find out I suppose. Potential topics?

On being a woman in 2012, not just a woman, but a mother, an Aboriginal woman? Ah gad, the memories. I think about this often. Like how I often reflect on cherry blossoms. I love cherry blossoms. One of my favourite memories involves a beautiful huge one at UBC while one of our fellow guy students climbed up inside and then shook the tree so that cherry blossoms fell all around us ladies, about um, seven of us perhaps. It was such a beautiful moment.

I've told some of my guy friends about this, told them get your lady to stand underneath that tree and climb up inside and shake the hell out of it so that the cherry blossoms fall on her. Just don't fall out.... LOL. My friend said he did this for his lady and someone came along and tried giving him hell, he told the guy, "Hey look dude, me and my girl are trying to have a moment here. Get lost alright because you're ruining it." The guy apologized and left. I thought that was funny.

On running. I like running, I run often. I like run/walking Teapot Hill. Teapot Hill is a beautiful little hike on the other side of Cultus Lake. When I run Teapot, I often reflect on the time I cannonballed down it, because I was running too darn fast, actually, uh, sprinting straight down the mountain like some kind of, how does it go, hair straight back and daydreaming. I do not suggest this to anyone, as you may end up doing something similar to what I did and then, like me, end up being carted away in an ambulance.

So maybe sometimes I will write about writing. Or write about mommyhood or write about running or trails or Thomas the Train. We shall see where this Blog leads us. So, this for now is where I start.