Leonardo and Missing

Not everyone can, nor wants to see everything that is going on.

A scene from City Opera Vancouver’s Missing 
Photo: Michelle Doherty, Diamond’s Edge Photography

On Friday Rebecca and I are going to see Missing, a piece with a score by Juno Award-winning composer Brian Current and libretto by Marie Clements which is playing in Victoria on November 1st.

I stopped working and began some entertainment this evening, going to the web to hear Marie Clements read some of her piety which was lovely.

And I read some reviews of the opera, and listened to some of the music so I feel at least minimally prepared to see it.

I also looked up ways to understand more about the screening of Leonardo: The Works-Exhibition on Screen which is coming in the Gallery Series. Only a small video is available, but the images were beautiful, and once I typed in the word Leonardo to the google search, it isn’t as if there isn’t lots to learn and see through the internet about him. Still I am looking forward to the big screen, the even bigger sound and the HD Live experience at our local IMAX theatre on Sunday.

Books to Have ... Continued

From Mary:

Rebecca’s comment is so great.

 Some books are just to have.

Only a true book lover could understand this. I use our Birds of North America book all the time. 

Since we didn’t bring it, I had to go out the other day on the internet to find out the name of a new bird to me – the northern flicker.

 A really cool bird in the woodpecker family.

I also had to go out to find the name of the house finch, which was also new to me.
Mary

Books to Have

I am trying to economize, because I am saving money to go to court with.  When I am with a person who is not economizing, I try to live vicariously though their shopping experiences.  Now Rebecca and I couldn't find The Report published by the Commission for Missing and Murdered Indigenous Women and Girls. 

I wanted my own copy so that I can do a close read and a marking of the text.  Rebecca and I went to the University Book Store to each get copies.

No copy of that was available there as well.

Author: Elliot Porter

While we were at the bookstore, she had another book she wanted to buy but before asking where it was, we went to the book cart of used books which is at the entry to the bookstore.  Books on that cart are $2 for the small books and $5 for the large ones. Unsorted by category but books people in college might want to buy. Both of us began to pull off books from the cart: 

The Birth of Western Civilization: $5.

Birds of North America: $5.

Spirits of the Water: Native Art Collected on Expeditions to Alaska and British Columba, 1774-1910: $5.

We also found some treasures for $2 which we put in our arms.

The book she wanted to buy was Indigneous Repatriation Handbook: Prepared by the The BC Museum ad the Haida Gwaii Museum of Kay Lingaay.  Full Price

A few more books went tucked on top of her arms and the bill was $200, and that is with the 15% discount she received at the till.

I looked at the pile of books and told her, "I am having some anxiety. How am I going to read all of these before I leave Victoria."

She said, "Sometimes books are just to have, not to read.

We haven' forgotten our original goal which is to get a paper copy of the Commisiion's Report. I guess that will have to be a subject for another blogpost.

Arta

The New Crock Pot

From Richard


That's my toe.

A new crock pot that turns out to be very heavy.

 Don't worry, the crock pot was intact after the encounter.

 The toe broke it's fall.

~ Richard

Graffiti in My Sink

On instagram Richard asked "Who left this bit of graffiti in my sink."



Someone who had looked at the graffiti asked him, "Who the heck is Alice?"

Richard answered, "Some 6 year old with impulse control problems that sleeps just down the hall from this sink."

Who is Alice?"

She is this little girl who likes to eat tomatoes.
As well, she sleeps down the hall from the sink.

"

Marcia Bates suggested, "Just leave it there.  Later on it reminds them of how mischievious they were (are)."


Richard replied, "I don't know if I can remove it.  I use permanent markers at work.  She found one that came home in my pocket."

Miranda closed off the conversation with "I think the person who brought home the marker might take responsibility for the graffiti.


Reposted by Arta

On Tasting Oolichan Grease

Image from:
http://www.bcfoodhistory.ca/ooligan-grease-by-gale-smith/

I tasted oolichan grease for the first time at the feast honouring the ceremony about the Witness Blanket.

 I first learned about oolichan grease when I was auditing a course about Indigenous Legal Theory.

The texts we were studying were mostly stories of the Gitxsan people, but there were other Indigenous stories as well.

Oolichan grease was an important part of one of the stories. I had to go to google to find out more about it. Now I can seee that I didn’t describe all of the important food on the feast table. In an email, Lindsay Keegitah Borrows asked me if I had tried the oolichan grease that was at the feast

I had forgotten how thrilled I was when the spokesperson said that there was some oolichan grease to be used on the salmon if people wished. It had been poured into a small sacrament-sized cup and was available beside the salmon. And yes, I did try it. I must have been hungry for I just poured it all over the fish before I even knew if I liked it.

I am an adventurous eater. With a new taste, I am not so concerned as to whether I like it or not. Other thoughts are going through my head: many people think this is a delicacy, I have read about this but never tasted it before, I wonder who did the processing for this oil so that I could try it, etc. All of the time I am thinking these thoughts, I am also thinking about the taste and trying to get it into my memory so that if I were blind-folded and given a taste of this, I could identify it.

The literature tells us that we have to taste something about 17 times before we know if we like it or not. So I have 16 times to go. I hope I get invited to enough feasts to work this out.

Arta

Feasting and Gifting

Contents of my bag, circling from the bag, down to the left
and then back up again: 

tobacco in red cloth, sitting on the bag,
a card featuring the Witness Blanket,
a post card from Winnipeg,
a Witness Blanket commemorative coin,
a hand-stitched red strawberry sachet pin,
Sooke spruce salt,
a museum pencil,
two hand-knit dish clothes

An Elder offered a prayer of thanks before the feast began, the feast that ended the Witnessing Blanket Ceremony.

Then there was an announcement about what was on the table to eat.

I got stuck on the first course: freshly harvested mushroom soup.

That was the end of my diet right there.

I no longer found it hard to juggle a bowl of soup, cutlery, a napkin and a plate for food.

The meat course was salmon, moose, and chicken.

Nobody was more in heaven than I was. Skip the desserts and just stay with the entrees. That was my plan.

I sat by people I didn’t know.

I like how conversations go at meal times where few people know each other. : slow conversation as we introduce ourselves to each other – and then rich conversations about our lives and how we find ourselves connected to the Witness Blanket.

As the evening grew to an end, Rebecca pulled out her clay pendants to give to people.

... commemorative coin ...

She often wears a large striking one as a choker and there is usually someone who asks for that one.

Off it comes and on to someone neck and another pendant replaces that first one that was on her neck.

I sat by a woman who asked me if I thought she could have two of them.

Her grandson had one and she had one.

I said no, Rebecca only gives out one per person.

The woman asked me why I hadn’t picked out one.

I told her that I was Rebecca’s mother, so I already had some at home. I should have told her the word “some”.

She asked me how many I had. I said nine, though I am sure I have many more than that. Nine is just a number I picked out of my head so that I wouldn’t seem too greedy.

... commemorative coin on Witness Blanket ...

The pattern of the coin is replicated on the blanket,
or maybe that is the other way around.

I am sure I have more.

I have taken so many out of the pile and put them up on my wall, that I have even taken some down and given them back to her to go into the bags of pendants she carries with her.

“Nine!”, the woman said. I laughed and said, “I am sure Rebecca is going to be just fine with you taking one for your granddaughter as well. I was just teasing you. Go for it.”

I want to say one thing about the Witness Coin that was in the bag.

... decorative corner of the Witness Blanket  ...

I was wondering what to do with it.

I have a small group of things that I love, but that have no real purpose and I thought of putting it there.

Then I decided – no it will go into my coin purse.

Then whenever I am searching for change, my fingers will come upon it and I will remember the Indigenous oral ceremony that finalized an historic agreement with the Canadian Museum of Human Rights.

Arta

The Witness Blanket Ceremony

Indigenous oral ceremony finalizes historic agreement with Museum

Rebecca and I have been discussing how hard it is to write a blog post about the Indigenous oral ceremony that finalized the historic agreement with the Museum of Human Rights. 

We have been talking about this for over a week now. I make some forays into an attempt, but I describe side trips, or a book about the Witness Blanket, or I describe the gifts that I brought home.

Carey Newman and Rebecca Johnson in conversation

But I can’t get at the actual experience with words yet.

I am going to try right now. I think, even with all of my reading about having Indigenous ceremony, I was not prepared for actually being in the Bighouse and witnessing this event.

Women in Kumugwe, 
the Bighouse on the traditional territory 
of the K’omoks First Nation, 
perform the welcoming Kitlala dance 
to open the floor. 
Doug Harrington/Media One

I did do the following when I got there.

I sat on the rising bleachers and gave myself fully to the experience.

Rebecca had to sit elsewhere.

I was close to the top of the bleachers.

They were well filled by the time we arrived. 

So that the invitees were close to each other, we sat on only one side of the building.

While sitting there, I thought about other ceremonies that I have been involved in.

One is when I have gone to watch some of my children graduate from university.

At the University of Calgary, we rise (new graduates and the old) and orally commit ourselves to using the knowledge we have gained to making a better world. I think Alan MacDonald wordsmithed the pledge and it sends chills down my spine and tears down my cheeks when I repeat it with everyone else in the audience.

The second ceremony that is written upon my body is the one I was part of when I was married. There were two parts to the ceremony that day – one an endowment of knowledge and the second, a binding of two people to a common purpose.

My third event at experiencing ceremony was witnessing the oral ceremony between Cary Newman and the Museum. I found this to be as powerful as the other two ceremonies above.

Artist Carey Newman receives a signed agreement from
the Canadian Museum for Human Rights’s Heather Bidzinski.

I can’t say that I was unprepared for the experience. I have been reading a lot of Indigenous literature – some memoir, and some of the reading, academic writing.

I am so grateful for that preparation.

I didn’t have a pencil or paper in my hand, and I didn’t take any pictures.

I just sat there, listening to the singing, watching the dancing, studying the clothing (especially the hat and the blankets that were worn), curious about the art in the architecture of the Bighouse, and listening to the words that were spoken.

Many underlying themes emerged. One was the joy brought to speakers as they heard the sound of a baby expressing discontent over being held in the same position for too long, or wanting some food, or desiring dry clothes, or that little sound of complaint before it falls asleep. I am deep into reading the TRC volume of The Legacy of Canada’s Residential Schools. I am reading many testimonies about the grief of having to send all of the children of communities off to residential schools to be raised. Sometimes the children were as young as four years old. I can’t imagine communities bereft of their little ones and their teen-agers. I try to think of living in a community with that kind of silence.

A dancer wearing the G’ixsam Ancestor bentwood box, 
especially created by artist Carey Newman to hold the agreement. 
 Doug Harrington/MEDIA ONE

Yesterday Duncan had his D &D friends over. 

There were seven teens, gathered around the table, talking to each other and over-talking each other. There were a lot of boys, all talking at once, it seemed.

I was in the kitchen for a few moments with Rebecca and told her that this sound coming from the living room is one of the most powerful pieces of happiness in my own life when I look back and think of hearing similar sounds in my own kitchen.

To return to the Bighouse now, and to remember so many speakers reminding each other of the joy of having their own children near instead of having them off at a residential school was just a powerful part of the ceremony that can’t be reproduce, either here while or I write, nor in books that I read.

An overpowering part of the ceremony was the music, the singing and the dancing, knowing that I was watching embodied ceremonial practise, the origin of which was older than those trees that I saw in the ancient forest at Avatar Grove.

Some of the education that accompanied the ceremony was also a powerful part of the experience. A large fire was kept burning in the centre of the Bighouse by the Fire Keeper. He had left his employment for the day, so that he could act in that position. I thought about fire keeping, about the firesides I have attended where people add logs, push them in position so that they will burn well, and I thought about why we need that warmth, and about how we sometimes use the fire to prepare our food as well. Mostly I thought about a man who gave up his employment for the day so that we could all participate in ceremony.

Professor Rebecca Johnson, Associate Director
of the Indigenous Law Research Unit
offering a blanket, witnessing and acknowledging the work.

The gifting part of the ceremony affected me as well.

Attending an historic event is a gift enough. 

But on top of that was a bag full of items and then a blanket woven in honour of the Witness Blanket.

I come to ceremony fully willing to participate, but one piece of me is always hiding behind a pillar, watching what is going on, but not wanting to have my presence be costly to someone else.

But when it is, there is an overwhelming sense of gratitude in me and responsibility to pass such goodness on.

When I got back to Victoria, I determined to put to use every thing in the bag to use as well as the Witness Blanket. In the past, I might store these items, putting them away because they are too precious to use. So everything has come out of the bag now. The smaller items are being used. And the blanket has gone travelling – gone to the movies, for example, for it gets cold there and I place the blanket on my knees sometimes.

I lay blanket across the bottom of my bed, so that my feet have an extra layer of warmth at night. In the daytime I lay it across the foot of my bed, and think about it whenever I place an object on my bed. I know that not everyone uses their bed in the daytime. I use mine as a big space where I can put things before they get to their actual space in my house, or where I can lay out a number of object that I want to see before I put them in a certain order. Taking an item given to me in what I felt was a sacred ceremony, and bringing into use in the common part of my life feels like the right thing to do.

After the ceremony comes the story about feast which I shall tell on a later day.

I am sure there is more I want to say in total. This is a good beginning. I couldn’t even sort this much out about what had happened to me in the Bighouse until now.

Processing.

That is what Rebecca calls this.

Arta

Picking up the Pieces

Carey Newman and Kirstie Hudson

I am trying to read my way through all of the volumes from the Truth and Reconciliation Commission.

This might take me until my birthday in 2020, although I did read 100 pages in Volume 5: the Legacy this week.

I am going to count that as preceding at a good pace to my goal.

I am giving myself a break sometimes and reading other books by Indigenous authors. 

Picking  Up the Pieces: Residential School Memories and the Making of the Witness Blanket is a book I just finished. 

Of the book, Amazon says,

Picking Up the Pieces tells the story of the making of the Witness Blanket, a living work of art conceived and created by Indigenous artist Carey Newman. It includes hundreds of items collected from residential schools across Canada, everything from bricks, photos and letters to hockey skates, dolls and braids. Every object tells a story.

I treasure the moments that I spent in the book.  Indeed, each object tells a story and there is a picture of some of the objects along with their stories in this book.  I could not stand in the museum and look at this piece, as long as the hours I spent making sure I connected with the objects and the stories by reading this book.  I don't have that kind of stamina any more.

I was also making imaginary plans to go to Winnipeg to see it -- oh, plans in the category of the plans that can be made and then set aside because timing doesn't work out.  However  I am adding this to my list of things I will do this if the opportunity comes up.

I like that list of hopes and dreams.  You know that old saying, a man who is tired of London is tired of life?  My saying could be a woman who stops dreaming of something she wants to do next is probably dead.

Massenet’s Manon via HD Live

Lisette Oropesa in Manon. All photos © Marty Sohl / Met Opera

Massenet's opera, Manon was grand today, more than I could have ever expected when I was a young music history major back in the late 1950’s.

The theatre was full of people my age, and a little younger. All of them must have developed a taste for the opera over the years.

One of them fell while trying to go up the stairs during the second intermission.

She fell backward, her feet close to the stairs and her body was across the isle. I had been out walking in the halls when she feel. I was down by the entrance to the theatre, close enough to the ticket taker that I could hear what was said into her earphones: “a fall in theatre 10”. I wondered if a human being had fallen or if that was code for “drink and popcorn has spilled all over and we need someone to clean it up".

It is hard not to be really interested in how a theatre takes care of someone in this kind of distress. The paramedics came, and I watched them take her pulse, get her to her feet and on the gurney, and then move her around so that she could lay back and have her feet put in a more comfortable position. As she was being moved, she told them she was going to throw-up and they had a bag there for her instantly.  I still watched.  And finally there were blankets to wrap her in, all the time explaining what they were doing.

I turned to the woman next to me and told her, “That could have been anyone in this theatre. I think we are all watching this poor woman as though we are experiencing it by proxy.”

The taste for opera lies in people who are older. Or perhaps they are the ones who can afford to go. When the paramedics left the theatre, I noticed that no one else accompanied the older woman, though some who sat around her had tucked her cane and her purse around her.

Again that could have been me.

 I just must go to these events, even if I can’t find anyone else to go with me (although Rebecca and I met her friends there, so we weren't alone).

And why not go even if you can't find anyone else who wants to? The five hours was exquisite: the music, the costuming, the acting, the blocking of the scenes, the set, and the entertainment that poses as information about the opera that is brought in at the intervals. There was a virtual trip into the prompter’s box today, as well as a short interview with the head carpenter, the head electrician and the head stage manager.

Coming up? Akhnaten (l983) by Phillip Glass. This opera is for the adventurous. We saw some previous for it. No spoilers, but the singers stay for a long time on one note.

A Damaging Coffee Cup

A Curious Story

Catherine Jarvis reminded me that when there was a break-in at their house last year, she had to spend some time cleaning up afterwards.  She found a coffee cup beside the window where the robber had broken in.  She called the police office who had taken the robbery report and told him that she was sure that the coffee cup belonged to the robber.

He asked her if she was really sure that the cup didn't belong to someone else in the house.  She rechecked, asking everyone in the family so see if perhaps someone had bought some coffee or even some cocoa.  They all said no.

In a house of practising Mormons, there isn't much chance that a stray coffee cup beside a broken window would belong to any of them.

Now, six months later, the policeman called to say that the DNA on the coffee cup would probably lead to the conviction of a person who had been picked up and who was already know to the police for other break-ins.

A curious story.

Arta

Sooke Spruce Salt

... my gift of Sooke Spruce Salt ...

I am curious today about Sooke Spruce Salt.

Spruce Salt was one of the gifts I received when I attended the ceremony that marked the agreement that will cover the protection and use of The Witness Blanket.

As I said, I am curious now about how to use spruce salt.    I went to the internet and discovered I can make my own spruce salt in the spring – about late May but I must watch the trees for the new buds.

The blog showed me a picture so that I can recognize what those little buds look like, and yes, I have seen their beauty, sometimes even going over to a spruce tree to touch them.

The blog Homespun Obsessions tells me that I am to gather the new tips of spruce trees, then crush them, dry them and mix them at the ration of 1:1 with salt.

To test the taste out, I have been using an old method I use with new spices: put a small amount on the tip of my tongue and then savour the taste of that spice, trying to build a memory of it in my head.

For today, I have my Sooke Spice Salt beside my computer, trying to think about that citrusy taste on my tongue as being associated with a spruce tree. And when I warm up my sweet potato tonight I am going to sprinkle some on top for a new culinary pleasure. In the days to come, I will try sprinkling the spruce salt on eggs or meat or vegetables.

Thank you Carey Newman.

And if anyone is interested in seeing a 4 minute video of how someone does this, they can see a you tube video starring Joe from Minnesota.

On the Way to K'ómoks

... a blanket that was a gift to all attendees ...

Now my job is to use the blanket and to 
carry on witnessing what I heard and saw that day.

This past week, I have had some days when I thought that the moments have been so rich and profound that I hardly know how to process them.

I think that is what is taking me so long to write about the following daytime up the east coast of Vancouver Island. I did go to Comox to witness the ceremony between the Human Rights Museum and Kwakwaka'wakw artist Carey Newman (Hayalthkin'geme) who was making a contract with them about the art installation called The Witness Blanket. Others might have read the news release which I published a few days ago just gathering information out of it. When I read it, I cried. That is because those few words captured all that was happening in the five hours we were there.

The adventure began with 5 women in a car, doing the 3 hour drive there and then the 3 hour drive back – destination?

Comox in the rain.

We sang for a while – sometimes interesting songs we liked to do with children. Tara provided a new song I  didn’t know. “We are going on a picnic.” I can’t even replicate her version on you tube though I tried and found many other melodies.

We figured out the song using Solfa Method of Sight Singing and we knew how to identify and when to sing augmented fourths in other tunes. We also discussed everything seeing Al Simons behind stage at a festival to the latest Shakespeare to be seen on NT Live.

We talked for a while about an assignment Jess Asch was to turn in. We mostly listened while Jess provided a summary of what she wanted to say. Her assignment was to be 300 words. We listened and we asked questions and we wondered how she would synthesize all of her ideas into a few paragraphs.

 We talked about the upcoming election, about our hopes and dreams that it will lead to a more just political system.

We stopped to fill up the van and to get snacks. In my experience, purse are usually already filled with snacks.  But not for these women.

This is the first time I have ever been in a car with adults where the snack stop was an important part of the journey.

... detail of the edge of the blanket ...
... a design that is found in the Human Right's Museum ...

As we entered the Malahaat Highway there was an overhead electric sign saying “Watch for water pooling on the road”. When our car hydroplaned, that is when someone said, “Oh, that breath-holding experience is what that electronic sign was about back there.”

There was pretty much silence around the sign on the highway that said, “Hitchhiking is illegal. Picking up hitch hikers is illegal.” “What is that about”, I asked Rebecca.

“It is easier for the government to put warning sign like this on the highway, than to provide accessible transportation for people between the cities in northern British Columbia,” she said.

We used our google maps to find our way to Kumugwe, the K'ómoks First Nation Bighouse, and to make a very sharp right to get into Wendy’s for coffee and more snacks. The right turn was so sharp that we entered their exit road instead of the entrance to the mall. Now that was a sharp right.

Five women in a car, 300 kilometers each way.

We couldn’t have had more fun.

Arta

Road Trip for Glen and Janet

... looking way up in an ancient forest ...

From Janet Pilling

First, I wanted to tell everyone that we had a great holiday and wanted to thank Rebecca and Steve for the Carter-Johnson hospitality and beyond.


Rebecca fed us and did a load of laundry for us before going to the States for the remainder of our trip.


Highlights: Avatar Grove hike with Rebecca and Arta.

Glen, Janet and Rebecca hiking the

Avatar Forest

As well, I went mountain biking with Glen


We had a meal in Victoria at the Governor General's house for Glen’s 30 year service award (new silver earrings with an Indigenous design for Janet)

Carly Mariee and Connor Pilling

We took a ferry ride from Sydney to Anacortes, and camping in Leavenworth for the Festival.


But to top it off was learning of Connor & Carley’s engagement after they went on a long hike in Leavenworth.

So great.

We had bubbly at the KOA to celebrate.

They have no plans but to enjoy the now.

Cheers,     

Janet

Election Cookies

From Mary

If I were wanting to bake today, I would have made 3 different types of cookies so people could place their bets on the outcome of the election by eating a cookie – Conservative minority (classic oatmeal raisin), Liberal minority (sugar cookies with red icing and multi-coloured sprinkles), or Coalition minority cookies (macadamia nut with green M&Ms and orange zest glazed-icing)

I'n not sure that flavor combo will work, but I am willing to try anything once).

Sounds yummy!

Yum!

Love it

A Second Read of the Final Report of the Truth and Reconciliation Commission of Canada: Volume one: Summary

As well as doing some reading today, 
a deer captures my attention on
my walk this morning.

I set out to read the Final Report of the Truth and Reconciliation Commission of Canada: Volume one: Summary for the second time.

I have been using it as my Sunday School text for the year, self-assigned, reading about 20 pages a week, and giving it a close read with my scented coloured markers and a pen and pencil for extra markings in the margin.

No eraser.

I slowed down through the summer on the reading, giving myself time off for vacation and I thought I would pick it up in the fall, but here I am in late October and see that I have only made it to my August goal.

The deer backs up as I get closer.

Today, I spread my books out on my bed and arranged my bedside table, here in Victoria, so that I could do some serious reading.

I was set up in Rebecca’s office today, but Alex came down and asked if he could have the quiet study room to work on his university courses today.

 I am not going to say no to a request like that.

Afterall, I am only reading.

I picked up my reading at page 334, half way through the "Calls to Action", at about #84, Media and Reconciliation. Who but me underlines and draws pictures in the margins while reading those Calls. On a roll and finishing that section, I came to what is usually the end of a book. After all, who reads all of the Appendices? I didn’t read them the first time through the book. I did today.

t 

By the time I get in the picture, the deer is already
to the front steps of someone's home.
I am too slow, getting my camera out.
But I am fast with my walk.  
7,000 steps in an hour!

Appendix 1: The Mandate of the Truth and Reconciliation Commission.

I would probably have made a good lawyer because I like reading Terms of Reference and never-ending paragraphs about the Establishment, Powers, Duties and Procedures of the Commission, etc.

When I finally finished off with the 14th category, Budget and Resources, my appetite must have been whetted for more, for I went on and read Appendix 2.

Appendix 2: Canada’s Residential Schools. A few paragraphs described which residential schools were in the Residential Schools Settlement Agreement (IRSSA). Then all of the schools in Canada were listed, 9 pages double columned. I read the names of every Alberta school and then skimmed the other provinces. I read the names of places I have never been and some I have never heard of. Not to be stopped, I went on to read Appendix 3:

Appendix 3: Persons Found Guilty of Abusing Residential School Students. Only cases that are finished in the court system are listed here. I studied the names here, carefully written here, the names of offenders, the school, the conviction, the sentence, row by row. I did it out of respect for the brave people who brought their claims of abuse forward. A heart-breaking testament. I am glad I took a look at where this is in the book and know that it is there.

Appendix 4: Apologies. I would have had no idea I was wanting to press on. I guess it is good to read ahead when I have created a plan. It is even OK to get behind. I as making a mental list of the number of apologies read in the House of Commons: Prime Minister Steven Harper; The Honourable Stéphane Dion (Leader of the Opposition); The Honourable Gilles Duceppe (Leader of the Bloc Québécois); The Honourable Jack Layton (Leader of the New Democratic Party). And then came the church apologies. I won’t list them. But I was curious about the “voice” I was reading, since the apologies were essential about the attitudes of racial and spiritual superiority had brought to Indigenous people. But since the tone would change from one apology to another, the reading was really interesting for me.

Appendix 5: Honorary Witnesses. A few of the people in this list I have met. A few more I know because they are often in the media. And then I wondered about those on the list whose careers I know nothing about. I was wondering what they had done to be asked to be on such a prestigious list. Finding that out is a task for another day. And on to Appendix 6.

Appendix 6: Commission Staff and Contractors. Of course I read through this. I am thoroughly geeky grandmother. I was thinking about the cost of paying all of these people and I was at the same time, so grateful for their work because it makes reading this report so enjoyable. And they also listed people who had given them Pro bono assistance. Now that made me smile. I like the idea of free. Even in the corporate world, free is good.

Bibliography. I resisted picking up my pen and underlining the titles of books I would like to read. I went through both the primary and the secondary sources that are listed. How about the title, The Doctor Rode Side-Saddle. I would want to at least flip through that book. Or how about Thomas Crosby and the Tsimshian: Small Shoes for Feet Too Large. I will never mock anyone who reads bibliographies in order to find good reads for themself.

Meet the Commissioners. I approached this section thinking about the day I read Mary Johnson say, “I just love The Honourable Justice Murray Sinclair.” Here was a few paragraphs that might make me find out why she would say that.

About the Publisher. Yes, I even read that section.

The Index.  And I looked at the Index, carefully unfolding a page were the press had caught a corner of the paper and turned it under. My fascination with indexes is because it is possible to self-publish a book and Word has a programme to help the beginning publisher make an index. Having done some of those, I am curious about the layouts of a professional index.

By now, I think only Bonnie Wyora will still be reading this, since I am pretty sure she is looking at the Volume One: Summary,  as well.  Rebecca's book has colours all over it and writing on every page.  I doubt I am going to get to know my book that well.

This didn’t take me long to read, today, Bonnie. I think the quote that went into my heart is on page 339: “Reconciliation is an ongoing individual and collective process.” Instead of being cross with my church because they are lagging behind on their Calls to Action, I have just decided to do my part working by myself. I will join with the Latter-Day Saints when they begin a collective process for their members.

I could have read more slowly, Bonnie, stretched my reading out, but Rebecca purchased Volumes 5 and 6 for me. One is entitled Reconciliation. The other is Residential Schools. I decided to read those before I get the 2 Volumes from The Missing and Murdered Indigenous Women and Girls Inquiry.

Arta

A News Release about an oral ceremony

On Wednesday, Rebecca, Jess Asch, Brook Edmonds and Tara Williamson and I drove up to Comox, B.C. to watch the oral ceremony that finalized an agreement with the Museum of Human Rights.

Below is the news release which tells what happened better than I can do.

Indigenous oral ceremony finalizes historic agreement with Museum
Winnipeg - October 16, 2019 -A historic agreement between Kwakwaka'wakw artist Carey Newman (Hayalthkin'geme) and the Canadian Museum for Human Rights (CMHR ) was finalized today through traditional ceremony at Kumugwe, the K'ómoks First Nation Bighouse on Vancouver Island.

Carey Newman and The Witness Blanket. 
Photo: CMHR, Doug Little

The ceremony marks the first time in Canadian history that a federal Crown Corporation has ratified a legally binding contract through Indigenous traditions - in a process that has attracted interest from legal and cultural communities, Indigenous peoples and academics all around the world.

The groundbreaking agreement governs protection and use of The Witness Blanket, Newman's powerful art installation made with over 800 items collected from survivors and sites of Indian residential schools across Canada. In an unprecedented process, Kwakwaka'wakw traditions and governance and Western contract law have been given equal weight, vesting rights with the artwork itself as a legal entity that carries the stories of the survivors.

The ceremony, held near Newman's traditional territory, was facilitated by chief and spiritual leader Wedlidi Speck, head of the Gixsam namima (clan) of the Kwagul people. The ceremony included song and dance and the presence of an ancestors' mask, with Newman and CMHR president and CEO John Young each stating their purpose and intentions for the stewardship of The Witness Blanket. Respected witnesses from the Kwakaka'wakw community, youth, elders and people with connections to the project, then reflected on their responsibilities as storykeepers and memory holders. The parties celebrated with a feast in the tradition of potlatch, acknowledging the gift of the agreement and the deep relationship that has been forged.

"Reconciliation means letting go of certain ways of doing things and looking for new ways that fundamentally alter the nature of relationships," said Newman, a master carver who is currently Audain Professor of Contemporary Art Practice of the Pacific Northwest at the University of Victoria. "Through spoken words and shared memory, we can express our commitment in ways that transcend written contracts - how we feel, our hopes and our goals for this agreement and our relationship as collaborative stewards of the Blanket and survivors' stories it holds."

Young said the approach to this agreement reflects the Museum's commitment to recognizing the importance of Indigenous values in ways that encourage thought and discussion about promoting human rights.

"The Witness Blanket has national significance as a framework for conversations about the genocide of Indigenous peoples in Canada," he said. "As we jointly acknowledge our duties as its caretakers, we want to begin in a good way, based on a strong relationship of shared understanding and respect."

Professor Rebecca Johnson, Associate Director of the Indigenous Law Research Unit at the University of Victoria, said the oral ceremony binds each party together on a deeper level than simply signing a legal document. Through the bodies, words and interactions of participants, the agreement is brought to life as a physical entity, she said.

"It matters that the parties are face to face, that they see each other and hear each other express their commitments and intentions," said Johnson, who attended today's event. "The ceremony places the agreement firmly in their memories and embeds it in their personal intentions."

The Museum will soon begin restoration work on the 12-metre-long, cedar-framed art installation, in preparation for an upcoming exhibition project. A travelling photographic reproduction is touring Canada, currently showing at the Neil John Maclean Health Sciences Library in Winnipeg until October 31 before travelling to other locations in Saskatchewan, Alberta, Ontario, British Columbia and the Yukon.

A new book called Picking up the Pieces: Residential School Memories and the Making of the Witness Blanket, has recently been released by Orca Book Publishers. An official national book launch is scheduled for November 20 at the CMHR in Winnipeg with Newman, co-author Kirstie Hudson and national CBC radio host Shelagh Rogers. A documentary film about The Witness Blanket is also being distributed for educational purposes by the CMHR and for broadcast by Animiki See Distribution, a subsidiary of the Aboriginal Peoples' Television Network (APTN).

The Canadian Museum for Human Rights is the first museum in the world solely dedicated to the evolution, celebration and future of human rights. Using multimedia technology and other innovative approaches, the CMHR creates inspiring encounters with human rights for all ages, in a visitor experience unlike any other.

A reverie on A Midsummer Night’s Dream

Last night Rebecca, Duncan and I went to see the taped live production of A Midsummer Night’s Dream transmitted from the National Theatre to 635 movie theatres around the world.

Duncan seemed to have a perfect memory of the synopsis of the plot and updated me a few hours before we went. I didn’t have time to look for any reviews online.

Had I done so, I might have deepened my understanding of what I was about to see, though I am not sure that would have heightened my enjoyment.

Photograph: Manuel Harlan

Gwendolyn Christie as Hippolyta

So like me to read the review, just a little too late.

But not so late that I didn't get to enjoy what The Guardian had to report through Michael Billington after the fact.

 At the end of the first act I was still in my seat laughing, long after other people had gone out to enjoy their intermission break.

I couldn’t see how the second half of the play was going to match the fun of the first half. A half-time interview with the director, Nicholas Hytner, was instructive about what to look for in the second half of the play. The gender-switching of the dialogue was seamless.

On the way home the car was filled with conversation. And even into today, Rebecca was saying to me, “Did you see the gold lamé tights on the arielist last night?” or “How about those cross-gendered high heel shoes?”

We told Mary we were going.  She said she had looked for it to be playing in Lethbridge but such wasn't the case.  Rebecca and I have noted the same phenomena in Victoria.  It is a mystery as to which of the shows will be shown and which will not.

If there is an Encore, I will be there.

Arta

Whose Turkey is This, Anyway?

"Let it rest for 2 1?2 hours."
That's what Gordon Ramsey told us.

1. Alex said that he wanted to cook something he had never cooked before and asked if I would help him. After going through a list of possible recipes we decided on trying to cook a turkey, something that has never been done in the Carter-Johnson household.  Now that is an astonishing record.

2. Rebecca went to the store, but I am the one who scooped up the $.98 a pound turkey, one per customer.

3. Steve said he would eat the turkey in soup, but that he brings with him an idea from long ago that turkey meat is dry is we can probably count him out on the turkey adventure until it becomes delicious soup.

4. Duncan took me to the internet to show me his favourite youtube video on cooking turkey – done by the famous British Gordon Ramsey who makes getting under the skin of the turkey and placing a mixture of butter, garlic, parsley, lemon zest, lemon juice and olive oil there take just a simple matter of a few seconds. As well the video shots are punctuated with a lovely blue Christmas ornament hanging from a tree, bringing with it all of the softening of even the crossest Christian soul while watching it. As well, Duncan took me out to hear his favourite renditions of “Auld Lang Syne” and “Silent Night”.

5. I picked up a tin-foil turkey roaster from Save-On on my early morning walk ($3.50). I also checked out the price of a Master roasting pan at Canadian Tire this week (regular $49 to $10). I don’t have a car to go get it, I felt compelled to look at the price, should Rebecca want to make an investment but why should she want to starting cooking turkeys now.  Life is too short.

6. I filled the cavity of the bird with an onion, the two lemons left over from zesting them, tied up the legs and placed 5 strips of bacon along the top of the turkey.

7. Rebecca helped take the meat off of the bones after the turkey had rested.  Sheput the carcass in a crock pot to produce soup. I drained whatever off whatever was in the turkey roaster, strained it and reduced it in a pan, just as London Chef Gordon Ramsey had done.

8. When the adventure was over Rebecca and I didn’t need to eat the turkey, we were so full from picking away at the meat on the bones. Yum. And the answer to whose turkey is it anyway? Well, it was Alex’s idea, but by the number of days that it took me to buy and cook it, Alex had turned into a vegetarian.

PS  Cooking a turkey for Thanksgiving was easy since I only did the turkey -- none of the trimmings.

Tillicum Mall Cineplex Steps

SilverCity Victoria, Tillicum Mall Steps
... the curves and the bannisters  a
re outside of the frames of this photo

The steps leading up to the Cineplex in Victoria are long and curve at both ends, circular in length, the kind of steps that Ginger Rogers and Fred Astaire would have used in a dance route.

At both ends are bannisters.

Yesterday as I come out of the dark of the theatre and into the daylight, it was tempting not to spread my arms, at least to my shoulders, take a deep breath and dance down them.

I was contemplating this move, then thought better of it and so changed my direction ever so slightly so that I could walk over and hold onto the bannister, not with a heavy grip but ever so lightly.

Just as I made my move to turn a voice shouted out came from the other side length of the steps where there is also a bannister, “Yes, use the bannister. That is what it is for.”

 Of course I laughed out loud and at the bottom of the stairs I walked over to meet the caller who was also laughing and who said, “I have already had one fall today. We should all use the bannister.”

“Oh that is terrible.” I replied. “Were you hurt?”

“No. That is because I took a very soft fall.”

I was laughing again.  That is because that is how I justify my falls.  They aren't really a fall unless they are hard falls.

“I took a fall today as well. We are living in dangerous times”, I said.

I didn’t tell the man about my fall. But I will tell you.

I got on the bus but didn’t know how much money to put in the fare box so that I could ride the bus all day. Five dollars, the conductor told me. I told him I would dig out the money out of my change purse and come back and give it to him. I sat down on one of the long side seats, and pulled out a handful of change from a bulging hand wallet. There was too much change there for me to keep it all closed in my hands although I was trying, the bus driver lurched the bus forward and I slid off the seat with outstretched arms, one arm going forward, the change spilling out of it and rolling down the isle and the other arm backward acting like a rudder.

Whatever money I lost out of my hand, other travellers on the bus quickly picked up and gave back to me. I found a way to scramble back up on my seat and finish counting out the change to take back up to the front.  And that was my fall.  My soft fall.

I am practising riding the bus – hanging onto the top railings or onto the poles of each chair as I make my way to the back door. The lurches are reminiscent of all of the sudden starts and stops while trying to climb the stairs on the two decker buses in London. There are lots of ways to know a person is still alive enough to have fun. Riding the bus is one of them.

Arta

Outdoor Tuachn Theatre in St. George, Utah

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