Driving While Indigenous — A Reflection
On May 8th, I had the privilege of being a vendor at the Driving While Indigenous Gala at River Cree Casino — a classy, moving event that brought together seven Indigenous speakers who are making waves in their communities. Lunch was served, stories were shared, and I set up my little mobile gallery in the market inside the event. My contribution to the day was a $250 product donation for door prizes — I gave away Cat Spirit, an original painting I loved deeply. I shed tears for that one. But I am glad it has found a home.
I did not expect to come home and cry.
A special shoutout to my daughter, who was by my side that day and is building something beautiful of her own — a crocheting business you can follow on Instagram at @tuxedo_threads. I am so proud of her. 🧶💙
“Creating art is sacred work.”
Tantoo Cardinal said that. And it landed somewhere deep inside me — somewhere I didn’t know needed to hear it.
The speakers talked about what it means to carry the Indigenous title. That it is not a burden — it is a gift and a responsibility. A responsibility to Mother Earth. To our communities. To ask, always: what can I give back?
I came home and meditated. And then I wept.
I didn’t grow up immersed in my culture. My mom did her best to keep me connected, while also giving me the freedom to explore — and I am grateful for both. I have wandered many paths in search of truth and spirit. Churches. Paganism. Yoga. Rastafarian teachings. Irish and Celtic traditions. The mysteries of the cosmos. And what I found, after all that wandering, is that there are many paths to spiritual enlightenment. Many truths. And it is a deeply personal journey.
I smudge. I believe everything is sacred — because everything comes from Mother Earth. Even manufactured things, because somewhere, someone created them, and their spirit, their essence, flows into what they make. Energy is everywhere. It does not stop at the edge of a canvas.
I am grateful to be accepted in my Indigenous communities. And I also recognize that I am something specific: a bridge between nations. I honour all of me. Not one side or the other. All of me.
What weighed heavy.
People were kind at this event. Genuinely kind. They loved my artwork and it helped me spread my wings in ways I didn’t expect.
But some people said they would come back — and didn’t. Some promised to visit my website — and I don’t know if they did.
And that woke up a little girl inside me. A little girl who has known broken promises. Who has been told what she should paint — horses, beavers — as if her expression needed to fit inside someone else’s idea of what Indigenous art looks like.
I felt that. I sat with it. I let myself feel it.
What I took away.
After a lot of inner reflection, I came back to something simple and true:
I am wonderfully me. And today, I am enough.
My circle grows every time I show up. At every market, every event, every paint night, every canvas I finish at 2am. I keep showing up — and the right people find me.
I listen to the voices in my communities. I learn. I integrate what resonates, and I release what doesn’t — with respect. I will always show up with respect, to the best of my ability.
My DNA runs deep. It carries the lessons, the teachings, the tears, the joys, and the hope for the generations that come after me.
My roots run wide and deep — across nations, across traditions, across every path that called to my spirit. And from all of it, I am still becoming. Still growing. Still here.
One day at a time. One moment at a time. I keep honouring this temporary, beautiful journey. 🌿