Niskipisum, a Cree word meaning ‘Goose Moon,’ symbolizes a time of transition in late winter when the extreme cold slowly begins to lose its powerful grip on Mushkegowuk, the homeland of the Moose Cree. This moon is a magical time and one of immense power. It is also the moon under which the geese make their journey north each year.
During the winter months, the cold, dense surface air refracts light in extraordinary ways, creating amazing arrays of magenta and blue hues across the ice and snow. This same dense air creates another unique phenomenon. By bending sound waves back toward the surface rather than up and away from the earth, it increases the distance sound travels. Wawatay, the ‘northern lights,’ also visit on some clear nights, hanging like shimmering curtains of green, red, yellow and sometimes even blue. As children, the sight of Wawatay brought both delight and fear as we were warned not to whistle lest Wawatay be attracted to the sound and claim our souls.
Niskipisum also marks the beginning of ‘breakup’ on the Moose River -- the time when the thick ice and snow begin to yield to the dark waters of the river running underneath. To bear witness to what had once appeared so unyielding and indomitable undergo such a colossal transformation, is awe-inspiring. I cannot recall a more exhilarating time as a child growing up along the river than when watching the ice heave and break into pieces while listening to the inimitable rumbling sounds of the ice flows being hastened along by the strong current; often eroding the banks of mud and clay as they made their way out into James Bay.
And, if you stand on the riverbank during the time of Niskipisum and you show the ‘right kind’ of respect for the river -- the kind of respect that comes from knowing that you and the river are not separate -- the river shares its magic. It reveals things inside of you -- things far too big for 'mind' to comprehend. Things that can be only understood by something far beyond one’s intellect and carried only in the quiet space inside one’s heart. This is the experience of Niskipisum. And this is what I have tried to communicate in my painting.
During the winter months, the cold, dense surface air refracts light in extraordinary ways, creating amazing arrays of magenta and blue hues across the ice and snow. This same dense air creates another unique phenomenon. By bending sound waves back toward the surface rather than up and away from the earth, it increases the distance sound travels. Wawatay, the ‘northern lights,’ also visit on some clear nights, hanging like shimmering curtains of green, red, yellow and sometimes even blue. As children, the sight of Wawatay brought both delight and fear as we were warned not to whistle lest Wawatay be attracted to the sound and claim our souls.
Niskipisum also marks the beginning of ‘breakup’ on the Moose River -- the time when the thick ice and snow begin to yield to the dark waters of the river running underneath. To bear witness to what had once appeared so unyielding and indomitable undergo such a colossal transformation, is awe-inspiring. I cannot recall a more exhilarating time as a child growing up along the river than when watching the ice heave and break into pieces while listening to the inimitable rumbling sounds of the ice flows being hastened along by the strong current; often eroding the banks of mud and clay as they made their way out into James Bay.
And, if you stand on the riverbank during the time of Niskipisum and you show the ‘right kind’ of respect for the river -- the kind of respect that comes from knowing that you and the river are not separate -- the river shares its magic. It reveals things inside of you -- things far too big for 'mind' to comprehend. Things that can be only understood by something far beyond one’s intellect and carried only in the quiet space inside one’s heart. This is the experience of Niskipisum. And this is what I have tried to communicate in my painting.
