Striking while the iron is. A place and recognize an anomaly. I’m reminded of the slingshot skyrocketing success of Nirvana catapult to fame.
People often ask my fascination with Raccoons. It was my first lushootseed word I learnt from my grandmothers aunt. I could not tell a story with it or why she felt open to say it. I was maybe 15-16yrs old and we saw it or maybe she looked at my sketchbook. I saw them on the river growing up.
Most people regard them as a nusance. Diggers in trash. Like anything goes it can be.
Carving on the river at night long hours they came to watch me in the distance and come close maybe out of curiosity. When all is time and nothing to do and a light is distant with food it’s a simple idea.
the eyes would peer at me and one would come up to grab food now and then. I wish I knew a story of something to offer. The time I was learning language of our people I wanted to ask some speakers but it would have been a complicated thing to ask.
I said something to Loren White about it and he said, it’s just life. The story can be them looking at you and just let that be a good memory and keep. No mythology needs to be anything more than experience.
Because song goes with everything I make in post. To be bond to my painted corner. This is long thought and felt with the sentiment of words that can be no ware for worse just sentimental and instrumental.
an impression was made in exchange and it deserves it’s wait worth in value. Like the Nuu-chah-nulth say about a Cod Swallows the moon.