As a Native artist, I’ve always had great appreciation for our traditional hand works and art. An acute awareness of our connections to the land, air and water has always been part of me. I’ve tried to honor my ancestors in my way and unique style through the various mediums in which I find appealing. I’m grateful for the knowledge that was passed to me through them.

I realize not everyone has the same abilities, skills or interest. I have many interests and I’ve kept my mind open to learning new things; I am always learning.

I’ve learned respect; respect for my elders; for our ways; for our teachings; and for myself. I keep this in my mind when I create.

Growing up, I was always around the arts in our family – it was a way of life. I never questioned its importance or why it was necessary. It was to help put food on the table, a means to an end. But now that I’m older, I see that it was a passing on of knowledge, a tradition of ourselves. It hadn’t hit me until just recently how fortunate I was to be in such a talented household. Craftsmanship and talent, time and great care that was obvious in their work and they took pride in it. But humility was also instilled in us as well: always humble never boastful. Grateful for the eyes to see, the hands to touch and the abilities to execute the project.

In my short time here, I’ve learned that Art takes Courage: you are putting your whole self out there for everyone to see. In art school, I recall giving and receiving critiques, it could be helpful to gain insights and perspectives not realized, and it could contain harsh truths, all respectful. But it trained one to always know you are an open target.

Authenticity was also crucial in my growing years: always be true, real, genuine, always be you. Be your own dog. I was never one to follow the pack. What they were doing was not my concern: do your thing. My parents were pretty cool like that.  They let us grow as a person, never holding us back, independent and spirited. That’s why I always smile and think my husband has my back: he supports my endeavors no matter what.  He always says, “Keep doing your thing.”

As I toddle along, still feeling small in this place we call our home, Mother Earth, I try to make my way the best I know and still be a compassionate human being: thoughtful and with the realization that our tomorrow is not promised.  I hope I’ve been able to inspire the next generation.

With a clear head, patience and grace, I move forward onto my next creative project. I’m at peace when I’m doing my work: it makes for an easier time with my work, no matter if its a doll, beadwork or a basket. I was told not to work when your mind is in a hurry, or tense. It will show In your work. For me, it’s almost meditative.  It’s true – “Art is Good Medicine.”  Sometimes you can get lost in thought and just be. Others can attest to this, nod their head in agreement.

In this world of disposable conveniences, instantaneous gratification and entertainment on demand, we have lost our way and lost touch with those that came before.  We’re forgoing the opportunity to learn from our elders.  When I was recently asked, “What advice would I give to the children of the world,” I was paralyzed: my mind went over and round; it really caught me off guard.  I could only say, “Keep learning,” and “Plant a tree.”  Both admirable and sensible, I’d say.  So, thinking in that same vein, as I’ve grown and experienced the world, this is what I’d say in a nutshell: Appreciate our past; honor our time here; be kind to one another, and share your art for the future generations, for the faces we will not see.