Apr 25, 2015 | Class Act, Tlingit Culture Accentuated, Tools-of-the-Trade |
“Naaxein” is the Tlingit word for Chilkat weaving
During the Summer of 2013, a couple of my apprentices and I had volunteered to do Chilkat weaving demonstrations at the Sheldon Museum in Haines, Alaska. While we were there, of course, they had a nice collection of Chilkat weavings from the area, and to our surprise some weaving terms in the Tlingit language! So on behalf of the Sheldon Museum, I post some of the Chilkat weaving terms as well as the origin of Chilkat weaving according to an anthropologist from the turn of the century who wrote the book “The Chilkat Blanket, George Emmons.
In addition to the comment in the above photo made about Jennie Thlunaut’s signature, Jennie’s checkerboard “signature” was a pattern of yellow and blue.
Cost of a Chilkat robe back in the mid-1800’s was $30
Jennie had told me that she sold her first robe for $50. If my memory serves me, it was the robe started by her mother who passed away when she was a young teenager. She thought $50 was pretty good for a Chilkat robe; she had a confident smile on her face as she spoke.
“Kasek’xu” Tlingit word for dye
Jennie and Agnes Bellinger (Jennie’s daughter) told me the golden yellow was what weavers strived for and the best way to do this was all in the urine. The best urine to make the golden yellow was urine from a woman in her last month of pregnancy; second best urine was from a newborn infant. The way they collected the urine from a newborn was to place the “wolf moss” in the diaper and only collect #1 (as opposed to #2) and put the soaked wolf moss in the dye bath. The older the baby, or child’s urine, the more pale the golden yellow. Jennie and Agnes said there is no wolf moss in Southeast Alaska. The moss was a trade item with the tribes on the other side of the coastal mountains in British Columbia, Canada. The youth of the urine made the biggest difference in the color achieved and the set of the dye.
“Kakein” is Tlingit word for yarn
The mountain goat wool and cedar bark spin together as if they were mated for life; they are attracted to one another like bee to a flower! Mountain goat hides are hard to come by; and even if they were easy to acquire, there are so many Chilkat and Ravenstail weavers on board, we would make the herds run away further up into the high barren mountains! In the bio on Jennie Thlunaut here on my website under “Tributes,” there is a map showing the places where the men would hunt for mountain goat. Today there are a couple of guys who hunt mountain goat. We weavers need to do trades with these guys so we can let go of using the 2nd best wool that has replaced the mountain goat: merino wool from New Zealand. This wool is the closest fiber in the world next to the mountain goat. It spins up okay, but not as fine as the bee and flower of cedar bark and mountain goat wool…!
Teey Woodi Tlingit for Cedar Bark
The Western yellow cedar is best o split because the strands are silky smooth (when wet), they pull out into longer strands than the cedar (which is more brittle), and when you spin the bark and wool (done on the thigh), your hands are not prone to the first layer of skin rubbing off! Though if red cedar is all there is to collect, or someone gifted me some, then it is only sensible to not look the gift horse in the mouth. You acquire what you can! It is best to harvest the red cedar when the first sign of spring shows up with new green growth at the tips of the cedar tree boughs.
Chilkat weaving origins
There are several stories of the origin of where Chilkat weaving first began and how it came to and was retained in the Chilkat River Valley in Haines/Klukwan, Alaska. The Nishga’a in the Nass River area claim the weaving originated in the Nass River and only the Nishga’a inhabitated the area, not the Tsimpshian. The Tsimpshian from the Skeena River say Chilkat weaving originated there. The weaving had died out because of western contact in both areas, but fortunately, as one of the stories go, a Chilkat chief married a weaver from the Nass River (or Skeena River?), and then another story says it was the other way around. No matter what the story, all agree that there were specifically 4 sisters of a Raven Clan in Klukwan who unraveled the Chilkat apron to gain the knowledge of how the weaving was done.
Traditionally men designed the Chilkat robes because they were the artists of form line; women were the weavers…
Jennie said she finished a Chilkat robe in 6 months; she had pride on her face as she spoke. I didn’t believe her at first, but after I learned her fingering of speed, accuracy and tension, and I applied her knowledge to my weavings of today, well……?
Apr 13, 2015 | Latest Art Projects, Showing Off, Tlingit Culture Accentuated |
Clarissa begins preliminary sketch of her next Chilkat robe entitled “Egyptian Thunderbird” – © Clarissa Rizal – March 2015
I have started weaving my next Chilkat robe for the Thunderbird Clan. This is all I am saying for now. Stay tuned for periodic blog entries on this robe for this next year…!
Approximately 750 yards of 10 e.p.i. warp is needed for this Chilkat robe measuring 60″ w x 51″h – all warp prepared and spun by Clarissa Rizal
Clarissa’s weaving loom, balls of warp, weft yarns, warp stick and weaving supplies – April 11, 2015
The first 6 to 7 rows of a Chilkat robe are always done in white; this depth is to accommodate the fluffiness of the fur trim added to the top edge of a Chilkat robe. – Clarissa Rizal – April 2015
Apr 9, 2015 | Adventures of Rear-Mirror Rissy, Class Act, Honoring Others, Tlingit Culture Accentuated |
Yukonian and Alaskan Chilkat and Ravenstail weaving students hold their wooden “warp sticks” along with dancers wearing Chilkat and Ravenstail robes (“Diving Whale” Chilkat robe woven by Clarissa Rizal, “Copper Child” woven by Lily Hope & Clarissa Rizal, “Grandmother’s Time” Ravenstail robe woven by Ann Smith — Kwaanlin Dun Cultural Center in Whitehorse, Yukon Territory – June 2013
Today, as I was doing some research on line about other Native American, Alaskan artists or Ravenstail and Chilkat weavers who may have blogs, I came across this article from Radio Canada International’s website:
http://www.rcinet.ca/en/2013/07/10/chilkat-and-ravenstail-weaving-renewed-in-yukon/
Ann Smith and I taught this class nearly two years ago; she taught Ravenstail and I taught Chilkat. It was a blast. It feels real good to help inspire the local Yukon weavers to come back to their “woven” selves. Ann and I met when we were young like most of these gals nearly 30 years ago. Little did we know then that we would be helping to revive our nearly-lost weaving traditions. Who woulda known, eh?
Mar 26, 2015 | Health and Wellness, Poetry Alaskan, Tlingit Culture Accentuated, Tools-of-the-Trade |
Whenever I can, wherever I sleep, I place the foot of the bed at the window, so i awaken to nature and the first crack of dawn — view of Teslin Lake — July 2014
After nearly 40 years of writing my artist statements, and of all the responsibilities I have done in running an artist business, the writing of statements is the most challenging; I’d rather do my IRS taxes or shrinkwrap my prints, or go to the dentist than write an artist statement! I was even challenged a couple of months ago when at the request of one of my students’ assignments from her art instructor had to choose someone who had influenced her to become an artist, I wrote a brief bio explaining when I began to do my art and why. Even THAT was a challenge, although when I had completed the bio, I was somewhat pleased. (Here’s the link to the bio: http://www.clarissarizal.com/blogblog/birthday-bio/ ).
Even now after writing this artist statement, I asked myself why do I have a difficult time with bios and artist statements? Answer: I don’t like WRITING about myself. (Hey now, for those of you who know me and how much I can TALK about myself, that is very different than WRITING about my self!) When I talk about myself, it is easier because I am talking about the present or the past, I can express myself with animation, and I generally have human responses and conversation. When WRITING about self, it’s all about ME. It’s all about what looks good on paper; how I can (or cannot) articulate my process, articulate my inner sanctions, articulate my inspiration, passions, ideas, and remedies to turmoil and celebrations of achievements. It’s all about making the time to articulate. It’s all about how well I can articulate! And what the heck, I have lots of things I want to DO than spend my time ARTICULATING on paper!!! Articulating through conversations, classes, lectures and presentations is no problem; I do it all improvisationally anyway and it’s always accompanied by storytelling and animated movements, and I ENJOY MYSELF. However, writing about myself has yet to become enjoyable. I repeat, I’d rather do my taxes or even go to the dentist.
Anyway, here’s my latest artist statement. Let me tell you, it was a challenge to write this.
“When awakened by the first light of dawn, my mind filters itself slowly back to this reality while catching up to a body already shaking its legs with enthusiasm to start another day of creating, though dares not because spirit is still in that “delicate time in the in-between” where visions reveal themselves more clearly as I lay quietly, these things “await in the eaves” yet to be created. Those close to me come to understand it is best to leave me alone for up to a half-hour first thing in the morning; disturbing this fragile state of spirit will disrupt the visions of new weavings, new button robes, and new paintings yet to come. It is also a time of communing with those that have long passed, those that I know presently, and those that I will come to know. The things that return with me upon awakening have been manifesting themselves in this reality since birth. Yes, I keep a pen and small notepad on my bedside table.
Rainbow Glacier at the mouth of the Chilkat River – Haines, Alaska – July 2014
Creating every day on 6 hours of sleep per night is normal; I’ve been this way all my life. I create from the time I wake up to the time I collapse in bed 18 hours later. My normal is defined as having many things going on at once: there are three weavings on three different looms, a draft for a new Chilkat robe design, a buttonrobe on the sewing table, paintings half complete, and preps for new collages; but wait I still have to respond to an RFP, fish our Alaskan waters and pick the best wild berries in the world to put up for winter, instigate Chilkat gatherings and retreats, conjure up proposals for collaborations with other artists, terrace the driveway, build, draw or sew with my grand-children, draft another artist statement, prepare for storytelling or lectures, rehearse with the band, plant a tree nursery, sew Easter clothing for all the grand-children, etc. These activities “feed” one another, in turn they feed my spirit and I soar. When I soar, it’s contagious; everyone around me soars.
Totemic images in cement, at Svenson’s home in Wrightwood, CA – December 2014
Being a Creator is nothing new; look around at how the Great Creator is in constant state of flux, expansion and chaos. Artists are no different; we are a “chip off the old block.”
Within is a drive where there is no choice but create. If I did not create, little by little I would literally die – ask me how I know. First my spirit would dwindle, then my emotions depressed, subside, and eventually stagnate. Lastly, my body would shrink, the fire light in my eyes would extinguish, and my breath, expire. While in the midst of this decline, we could call this the “walking dead.” Though, as if the drive within would allow this atrocity to happen? No way. I am vision. I am one of millions of visionary vessels from which creation flows, and to add to my blessings, I am born to a landscape, people and culture rich with beauty, diversity, strength and community – gratefully we Tlingit are grounded within the guidance of our ancestral customs, traditions and relations.
Chilkat and Ravenstail weaving class, under the “sun” in the Elder’s Room of the Kwaanlin Dun Cultural Center, Whitehorse, Yukon – June 2014
Chilkat weaving offers a meditative, spiritual practice similar to repetitive movements in Tai Chi. Woven from mountain goat wool and cedar bark, Chilkat weaving allows me to bring order in creative chaos as if the supple, compact twine of the yarns gliding through my fingertips were the pattern of a spider’s web, weaving new paths within the web of the brain, ever expanding to new horizons, new ways of thinking, and new ways of being, which in turn brings internal strength to the weaver; this naturally and gradually affects every relationship she has with others and self in good ways. Ask me how I know. This process and outcome is one of the main reasons why I teach our traditional Chilkat weaving to our women. For nearly 30 years, periodically, I have left my family and the comforts of home to gather, teach and support our generations of weavers. I remind and inspire our women to use their feminine intuition to converge with the realms beyond our seeing eye; in goodness, we help bring the past into the present, and present into future. When our women are healthy and strong, our world within and without, moves towards peace and happiness.
A circle of clan leaders, carved and painted totems just outside the Cape Fox Hotel in Ketchikan, AK – November 201
It is as though the warp yarns that hang down on our looms is our “veil between the worlds.” We understand the weaving of a Chilkat face puts us in touch with our ancestors. In a conversation with my friend and Chilkat weaver, Suzi Williams: “…when we weave the eyebrows, expressions are shared; when we weave the eyes, suddenly, we can see into their world and they can see into our world; when we weave the nose, lives breathe into our own keeping us alive and vice versa; and when we weave the mouth, we are able to finally communicate fully.” While we are weaving a Chilkat robe, many of us have expressed the uncanny feeling there is a presence standing invisibly behind us, ever supporting us. It is not until a weaver weaves the ultimate, a Chilkat robe, that she understands and feels the spiritual connection and some of our weavers may begin to understand a large aspect of her life’s purpose.
The many braids in weaving the “Resilience” Chilkat robe by Clarissa Rizal – April 2014
A Chilkat robe is a year in the making. Most of us no longer have the patience to devote this length of time to anything. We live in an instant-gratification world; we are no longer conditioned to sit quietly for 2000 hours as we contemplate our lives, let alone our livelihood. Before Chilkat came to me, I had very little patience. I would not create anything unless I knew I could do it in a day. After learning Chilkat, I gained the art of patience, the way of gratitude, and the act of compassion. The universe opened its doors with a flood of information; the kind of information not definable, yet powerfully written in our Native art, in the ways of our people, and in our commune with nature. When a Chilkat robe is completed, a totem pole raised, or a canoe on its virgin sail, new and old songs are sung with a celebration of dancers and a feast to commemorate the story “written” in our art. Our way is an holistic approach to creating art while documenting our history.”— Clarissa Rizal, March 2015
Mar 25, 2015 | Showing Off, Tlingit Culture Accentuated, To Market To Market, Uncategorized |
Amelie dances “Chilkat Child” 5-piece Tlingit woven ensemble woven by Clarissa Rizal – 2015 – all photographs by Jeff Laydon of Pagosa Photography
In the Summer of 2012, I had a couple of weaving apprentices come live with me for a month. All three of us started child-size Chilkat robes (with the intention that the child robe could also be worn by an adult as a dance apron). Over the past 2.5 years with all the other projects, a couple of commissions, travel for weaving classes and gatherings, family, etc., I finally completed this ensemble. I chart my time; it took a total of 5 months to weave this ensemble. The only way to make myself get a job done is to give myself a deadline, usually the deadline is an art show, a dance performance, etc. This time the deadline to complete the entire ensemble was by the Heard Museum Indian Art Fair and Market the weekend of March 6th this year.
Back side of Chilkat Child dance robe – Size 3T – woven by Clarissa Rizal 2015
I used four shades of blues, three were hand-dyed by myself, the variegated blue was dyed by a company in Sitka, Alaska. I used one shade of blue just for the braids. To distinguish the braids from the weavers, it was Jennie’s trick-of-the-trade to use two different shade of blues, one for the weaving, one for the braids! Also, I included curlique shapes in the design form; they represent seaweed, yet also I just wanted to see if I could actually weave the tight curls; they are not necessarily easy to weave, so believe me (which I rarely use that phrase), weaving the curliques in the leggings and the apron were a challenge!
Close-up of Chilkat dance apron and Chilkat/Ravenstail dance leggings – Size 3T (fot small child) – woven by Clarissa Rizal – 2015
I also used three different shades of golden yellow and two shades each of the white/off-white and black. The fringe on the apron, headdress and leggings were trimmed with .22 bullet shells, and all the pieces are trimmed with sea otter fur. Except for the robe, all the pieces were lined with leather with twisted fringe.
“Chilkat Child” torso (hat and upper front part of Chilkat robe – woven by Clarissa Rizal – 2015
Thank you to my 5-year-old grand-daughter, Amelie Soleil Haas for being such a natural-born model. She was easy to work with, took instruction well, and made my little “Chilkat Child” look better than ever!
Grand-daughter Amelie models “Chilkat Child”, with the weaver of the ensemble, her Grandma “Rissy” Clarissa Rizal – March 2015
Folks wonder how I get so much done: Most people who see me out there in the world being friendly and cordial and seemingly always traveling, wonder how I have time to work…well, there’s an explanation for that: when I hole up inside my studio for about 7 months out of the year, I do nothing else but work, work, work–produce, produce, produce. I have a zilch social life; I don’t watch TV except Netflix movies while I am preparing bark, splitting wool, spinning or grooming warp, and I don’t entertain because I don’t have facilities or room to entertain. I tend to be goal-oriented. I like setting goals and achieving them. And as any of you who know me well, I have always had many, many goals to achieve, all at once; there are things to take care of, things to design and make, places to go, people to connect with and bills to be paid! My motto: “Getterdun!”
However, once I am “out of my rabbit hole” and in the world, I am truly out there, but nevertheless doing work, just a different kind of work. It’s my “social work” which generally involves helping with the grandchildren, spending time with friends, networking, traveling to do shows, or teach classes or apprentices, buying supplies and equipment. This life is the way I make a living. It’s been this way for 39 years, it’s too late to get out of it now!
Mar 23, 2015 | Tools-of-the-Trade |
Grand-daughter Amelie helps wind smaller 2oz balls of weft yarns on the Boye electric ball winder
For nearly nearly 30 years I wound all my balls of weft yarns by hand; do you know how many hours and hours and hours that was for 10 major woven robes and woven ensembles and weaving classes/apprentices? Do you know how many hours I could have used for weaving instead!?!?!
The electric Boye ball winder surrounded by balls of Chilkat warp and weft yarns
Well….luckily my dear friend and fellow weaver, Catrina, allowed me to borrow her electric ball winder when my hand-winder broke. An electric ball winder; I never heard of it until I fetched it from Catrina and voile’ what a blessing——– OH, THAT WAS THE BEST THING THAT COULD HAVE HAPPENED TO THAT HAND-BALL WINDER —— I JUST WISHED IT BROKE 30 years ago!!!!!
Close-up of the electric Boye ball winder
The Boye electric ball winder retails at $120, HOWEVER, you may buy a new one for $60 via eBay or at JoAnn’s with a 50% off coupon! GO GET ONE NOW! Spare yourself the trouble of hand-winding; you’ve got better things to do with your time like weaving, weaving, weaving!!!
Mar 21, 2015 | Class Act, Tools-of-the-Trade, Tricks-of-the-Trade |
1/4″ strip of sea otter fur being looped through the top edge of a Chilkat robe
Sea otter fur is THE, or close to THE most warmest fur in the world with over 100,000 individual hairs per square inch! Yes, there are tricks-to-the-trade of working with sea otter fur.
TO CREATE A FULLER-LOOKING BAND OF SEA OTTER FUR TRIM (follow these instructions): After you have cut your 1/4″ strip to loop through your heading cord of your Chilkat or Ravenstail weaving, place your weaving on its front, with the WRONG SIDE FACING YOU! Depending on the size of your warp, loop through every 2 to 3 warp ends, using an overhand stitch, from FRONT TO BACK.
With your large-eye tapestry needle, carefully, gently, work the fur out of the looped eye of the warp to distribute the fur evenly and cover up any signs of warp or heading cord.
Good luck following directions!
Mar 12, 2015 | Honoring Others, Relationship Overdrive, Showing Off, To Market To Market |
The Hope grandchildren, Bette, Louis, Mary and Eleanor model hats made by Grandma Rissy!
After 20+ years of weaving Chilkat and Ravenstail robes, I have accumulated left over weft yarns in shades of whites, blues, yellows and blacks, not quite enough for any significant weavings, so I decided to put these yarns to use.
Grand-daughters Violet, Simone and Amelile–Chilkat hats made by Clarissa Rizal – Winter 2014-15
Nearly 40 years ago, instigated by the need for beautiful, ear-flap hats to keep the wind, rain/snow and cold out for my own children, I became a hat maker and there are a few folks out there who still have their winter hats that I made. Those hats back then have my design trademark at the top of the hats: the star or starfish, as shown in these photos. Now that I have grandkids, I am back to making these hats…happily, I have come full circle…!
Grandma Rissy has nicknames for all her grand-children: SikiKwaan, Ajuju, Wasichu, and Inipi — Chilkat hats by Clarissa Rizal – Winter 2014-15
Mar 11, 2015 | Adventures of Rear-Mirror Rissy, Showing Off, Tlingit Culture Accentuated, To Market To Market |
Sue and Israel Shotridge enjoy one another; Clarissa Rizal’s “Chilkat Child” won Best of Class at the Heard Museum Juried Art Show, Phoenix, AZ – March 2015
Doing art markets alone is not as much fun, however if you get along with other artists who may want to do the show alongside with you, like Sue and Israel Shotridge, it’s so much more fun! We had a blast! This was their first year at the market; this is my third year. We were two of 600+ Native American artists featured at the Heard Museum Native Art Fair and Market usually held the first weekend in March; this was the Heard’s 57th year. Sue and I were not quite a year old when they first started this fair! There were also a few other Northwest Coast Native artists at the Fair, though not many of us: Dolly Garza, Diane Douglas-Willard, and Zoe Urness.
Shotridges and Rizal combine their “gallery space” in each of their 10′ x 10′ booths at the Heard Museum Indian Art Fair and Market, March 7 & 8 – Phoenix, AZ, 2015
To be a part of the fair, the application process starts each year in July. To qualify, you must be at least 1/4 Native American with proof of your CIB (Certificate of Indian Blood), there’s a $25 application fee, the largest, 10’x10′ booths are $500, you must provide a resume’, and 10 images of your best work within the last 3 years. It’s easy for myself because I have established a large body of work over the past 39 years, though for emerging artists, the application process may be intimidating; however, keep your faith in yourself, put your best foot forward, and if you have nothing major to show for yourself, then get on the ball and produce some work before the Heard Museum deadline for application! Get it together, step up to your plate that’s waiting to “feed” you! It’s up to you!
Israel Shotridge drums and sings a clan song to an audience in his booth at the Heard Museum Native Art Fair & Market, Phoenix, AZ – March 2015
A select group of the booths at the Heard are 10′ x 10′. The Shotridges and I took down the canvas wall that divided our booths; we wanted to be able to converse and especially have more light AND give buyers and opportunity to “step into our gallery.” —- These shows can be a lot of work. It took three hours to set up my simple booth below. It took three hours for the Shotridges to do the same. Yet there is a simple pleasure in the accomplishment of making our space look inviting, and in our opinion, it really is like setting up a temporary outdoor “gallery.”
Clarissa Rizal’s “little gallery” art booth at the Heard Museum Native Art Fair & Market, Phoenix, AZ – March 2015
Outside of winning ribbons and with the intent you will sell some work to help offset not only your costs but pay some of your bills for the next few months, one of the best parts (for me) about doing shows are the variety of people we meet from all walks of life and the invites to other shows and events, or invites to artist retreats or residencies, and not to mention the up-and-coming artists who look to you for guidance and advice. Generally speaking, I think people like to be needed; it gives us another sense of self-worth!
Recent glassblown pieces by Tlingit glassblower Preston Singletary at his annual art show held the same week as the Heard Art Market, at the Blue Rain Gallery in Scottsdale, AZ
Jeremy Frey won Best of Show for his magnificent basket, Heard Museum Juried Art Show, March 2015
Carver Israel Shotridge and Glassblower Preston Singletary
Sue Shotridge takes a photo of the award-winning bentwood box carved by her husband, Israel Shotridge — Heard Museum Juried Art Show and Market – March 2015
Clarissa Rizal and Sue Shotridge sport their cedar bark hats woven by Haida artist Merle Anderson – March 2015
Beadwork close-up by beadwork artist Marcus Amerman – (I am partial to the Chilkat emblem in dead center!); Heard Museum Juried Art Show & Market, March 2015
Marcus Amerman’s beaded “Smithsonian” piece at the Heard Museum Native Art Fair Juried Art Show, Phoenix, AZ – March 2015
Adrian Wall’s sculptures in blown glass and stone at the Heard Museum Native Art Fair & Market, Phoenix, AZ – March 2015
Feb 3, 2015 | Honoring Others, Poetry Alaskan, Relationship Overdrive |
Clarissa and her children, Ursala, Lily and Kahlil – July 2011
A couple of weeks ago, one of my apprentices asked me if I would write a bio of myself that explained when I began to do my art and why. She said she had to choose someone who had influenced her life to become an artist; she choose me. This was an assignment she needed to present at her art class. My initial response was “Gee, I inspired her to become an artist? But I don’t want to write about me, it is so boring to go back that far and talk about who, what where when and why…” However, I gave her my word that I would do this for her that night. So, I “set the stage” with low lighting and a cup of tea; I do this whenever I have to write about my personal life to help me focus with very little struggle – then with very little editing, the words just flowed from my head down through to the keyboard onto the computer screen. Here’s what came…
19 January 2015
Sitting in the direct heat of the fake firelight of the electric Amish heater in my studio, always bundled in my sheepskin coat, sheepskin boots and hat because the heating device is not large enough to heat this one room where I work and sleep, I am never quite warm in Winter, though it’s better than being outside right now with 0 degree starlit snow. I reflect upon my life as an artist and wonder where it all started and if living the life of a full-time artist, especially now in a place without running water, without sewer, and without sufficient heat, was and continues to be, worth it.
No matter what age, for the past 59 years, I’ve always been a child of creativity, with a drive that is endless. I exist on 6 hours sleep a night; from the time my eyes are awakened by the early dawn until I suddenly stagger to my bed 18 hours later; like I am going-going-going, then gone! It’s only in the past couple of years that I realized that not everyone is like this; where have I been?
38 years ago today, my first child Kahlil was born, named after Kahlil Gibran who wrote many inspiring books including The Prophet, Spirits Rebellious, and my favorite The Broken Wings. Spiritually-inclined at a very young age, anything written about Christ had to be read; any paintings, prints and photos of Jesus had to be studied, so natural it was to read all of Gibran’s works when I was a young adult. And even though in the western way of living having a child at 20 was considered young, it was natural for me to think it normal because our Tlingit culture had the wisdom to know children are a gift of God.
My parents guided me into the way they were conditioned to get a “real job” to secure a pension plan to retire in 40 years. This worked for a little while. From the age of 14 to 20 I had real jobs working as a librarian assistant, a home-health aid for the elderly, a clerk typist for the Governor and for the Bureau of Indian Affairs Division of Contracting, until of course Kahlil was born. Being a new mother was challenging; I was not a natural-born mother because I was such a tom-boy and it was next to impossible to stay indoors day in and day out while the baby napped, I had to keep up with the diaper changes and laundry, and he had to be nursed every 2 hours 24-7! Holy cow!
To keep my sanity I turned to gardening; it got me outdoors yet close to home! I turned to drawing, crocheting and sewing. While he took his naps, and directly after putting the entire household to bed each night, I’d stay awake ‘till at least midnight, creating; it was my therapy! During the raising of my three children, I made a living over the next decades in a variety of ways: besides designing and making Tlingit ceremonial regalia in button blanket, Chilkat and Ravenstail weavings, I was an entrepreneur before I knew what that meant. I made hats, I sewed custom-made clothing, created costumes for local theatre companies, owned a landscape gardening company, and was co-owner of an online newspaper. In the 70s and early 80s, I took up learning our traditional arts from some of the best artists of their time: carving, regalia-making, traditional song and dance, metal-smithing, basketry, Chilkat and Ravenstail weaving. Just before my children were grown up and gone I had created a name for myself as one of the few, if not the only, Tlingit women who has been a full-time artist working in all of the above mediums for nearly 40 years, all in the name of keeping my sanity and being a stay-at-home-self-employed-mother because I did what my mother recommended I do: stay home with my children.
In a few years I will be 65; do I see myself retiring soon? No way. I have no pension plan; I have no savings; and I surely do not have an inheritance. I cannot afford to retire. And what would I retire to!? Would I retire to taking vacations? What for?…vacations are boring; I don’t want to relax – relaxing is a lot of work! Would I retire to volunteering at something? I been there done that volunteering all my life with the house concerts I used to produce in my own home; with the children’s theatre I used to co-produce; with the art shows and classes I used to teach, just to name a few. Would I retire to what most people retire to? Watching TV from the couch. What for? Is that really fun, is it productive, is it creative, does it do anyone any good? The only results I see from watching TV is weight gain—too much potato chips!
Would I retire to what some of us retire to? Art and music.
Hello? I am already there; I have been creating art and playing music all my adult life. Does this mean I’ve been retired all my life? Hmmm…an interesting perspective.
It looks like I will continue doing what I have been doing for almost 40 years. Why change now? I’m in the groove.
My children now have families of their own. Each of my children and their spouses are self-employed artists. I have watched them struggle with making ends meet like the way their father and I made ends meet never knowing where our next paycheck would come from and if next month’s bills would get paid. I watch them live like I have, not afford brand new cars, not take any vacations, not have the latest styles of clothing, all the while living with tension about the ability to keep a roof over their heads, mouths fed, and clothing clean. However, there’s a sense of pride and awe that I feel when I see the fact that they stay at home with their children, making wholesome meals from scratch, tending to a flourishing garden, doing their “art” and their little kids “working” right alongside them: happy. These are values I did not realize were taught to them by my own example, someone who has passionate creativity, a drive that has always been driven, at the edge.
Kahlil is a professional film-maker/director who also teaches film a couple of days a week at the Institute of American Indian Arts; his wife Miki is a counselor at the Santa Fe Arts Academy; their 7-year-old Violet enjoys chess tournaments, sewing, ice-skating, gymnastics and basketball. Lily is an award-winning, professional storyteller/actress and also a Ravenstail/Chilkat weaver and teacher; her husband Ishmael is also a professional storyteller/actor, excellent writer who recently published his first book of poetry. They have four children who are being home-schooled. Ursala is an oil painter, block-print maker, graphic artist/web designer, and is president of a local Charter school she is starting; her husband Chris is a lead singer/songwriter in his band, a sculptor and a house painter. Their two daughters are obviously following their footsteps! My children and grandchildren live fully.
To my best of my ability, I live a life of integrity. I keep watch of what I do to see what I believe. My offspring and my work is love made visible. I follow my heart because my heart follows the source of creativity that inspires me and continues to drive me. I am old enough to look back upon my life and enjoy it a second time around. All my relations, my parents, my children and their children are proof of the legacy that I co-created and will leave. And when I leave, my conscious will be clear and free, knowing all that I loved and lived, was worth it.
