My path to embrace my Indigenous identity through my art.

Hello!  I'm Tiana, the creator behind three.wild. 

 

Well... this journey began for me while I began life as a single parent.  Three.wild - because I'm fortunate enough to have three wild, beautiful, talented and spirited girls.  I wanted to show them how to follow your gifts, how to believe in yourself amongst difficult situations, and how to keep reaching for something... anything... better than the hand you were dealt.

 

As I progressed in my skills and designs, something started to surface I was not expecting. 

 

My mother, Bonita, was a member of Serpent River First Nations out in Ontario.  Like many Indigenous people, the teachings, the culture has been lost through generations of trauma.  My grandfather was a residential school survivor,  my grandmother had her own struggles, my mom suffered because of this and as a result spent a good portion of her childhood in foster care and group homes where she lost a lot.   Addiction became a very central part of my moms life as a result of her running away from the things that haunted her.  For many, though not all, addictions become a pathway for those carrying ancestral wounds. 

 

So at the age of three and my brother five, my moms struggle with addiction stole a life she could've had as a wife and a mother, and she left.  I'll never know if it was sacrificial or surrendering... either way, this is how generational trauma works.  I spent time with her, here and there.  She taught me a little, drawing feathers, making birch bark bitings, how to delicately form the web of a dreamcatcher, (how to make cigarettes, lol) I think she taught me a little because she only knew a little.  I never heard stories, never met my grandparents or most of my family for that matter (she was 1 out of 15 children).  So here I am, a little brown skinned, brown eyed girl, being raised by my Norwegian father, running wild with my brother in the woods on top of a mountain in BC.   

 

Other than my appearance, I never saw myself as Indigenous.  Actually, I felt like I was posing, like I was taking advantage somehow of "the system" because I got free glasses every two years.  And I didn't choose to identify one way or the other, it was simply that I wasn't given direction, I didn't have my mom to teach me.  A culture lost through generations, through addiction...  I lost out on knowing my mom.  My childhood... my adult life... bringing my own babies into this world.  All those pivotal moments where I needed her, I didn't have her because of what she carried.    

And this story belongs to sooo many.

 

So now enter my part of the story where I started woodworking.  Realizing the designs that I gravitated towards, that I started creating myself, were so foreign but yet flowed so effortlessly. My art became an expression from deep within, a place that was untouched.  I struggled with identifying myself as an Indigenous artist because, again, I felt like a poser.  How can I speak about the culture I knew nothing about?  How can I represent when I didn't grow up on the reserve or hear the stories or learn the traditions?  But my art, each and every piece started giving me that direction, the direction to claim what I am.

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I am an Indigenous Artist.  

I am telling my story, a story of lost culture, a story of perseverance and discovery.

I am simply a voice for those who also identify with my journey.

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I've allowed myself to be exactly that.  Maybe not in the traditional sense, my art is different than the traditional ways, but I'm ready to stop hiding from my true self.  I've had to remind myself that I'm not posing, I lost out on beautiful things in life because of generational trauma.  Art... woodworking... it has brought clarity and given me this direction.  It's hard to give credit to something that isn't living to give you life and a sense of purpose, but I know every other artist understands this. 

 

Art helped me understand my mom and forgive her for leaving me at a young age. 

Art helped me put food on my table for my three girls.

Art helped me connect with people, connect with myself.

 

Most Importantly

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Art helped me discover something in myself, a pride to be who I am and restore the bond with my mom as her "Little Indian Princess" before she left this world.  Just two dark skinned, brown eyed girls, removed from our culture one generation at a time, reconnecting with each other because of the wounds that needed healing. 

Art did that.

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The saying, a struggling artist... yes there is truth to that, but I will always pick this struggle so that I can have the lessons I've learnt this far, and the beautiful gifts it has given me along the way.

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It feels appropriate to teach you the only word my mom taught me of her native tongue.

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Miigwech

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Thank-you for coming along this journey with me.