

KOHKUM & KEFFIYEH
2024
50 X 70 inches, hand-printed on linen, stitched with wool thread and sewn with glass beads.
22 X 30, prints on BFK rag paper, stitched with wool thread.
In my work I aim to offer thoughtful commentary, inspiration, and hope. Throughout my lifetime Indigenous peoples will continue to experience the repercussions of precedent setting settler colonial violence–historic violence that has morphed in a myriad of ways into present day. Similarly, Palestinians who survive the ongoing genocide in Gaza will navigate the seen and unseen effects of unspeakable harms for generations to come. Violence has a way of permeating our hearts, minds, and living in our very cells. Here is the hope: the antidote to violence is love. And the inspiration: we are a global community powerful in numbers, agents of change unlimited in our capacity to love. These prints remind us that love is both a choice and an action.
In this work I explore the tactical use of genocide and ecocide to realize settler colonial objectives. These prints reference the colonization of Indigenous peoples north and south of the Medicine Line, and the atrocities unfolding in present day Palestine, both of which facilitate the seizure of land. The ghostly buffalo hoof prints and symbolic olive branches mirror the historic extermination of the buffalo and the ongoing decimation of olive trees, actions which dislocate and separate people from the land.
The chaotic print on linen speaks to people under attack. The embroidered yellow lines throughout the piece reflect the movement of families who are both imprisoned and homeless. The bloodied and diminished skulls of ravens and crows mark them as historic and present day witnesses of genocide. Hand beaded olives in this work reflect the resilience of Palestinian people, and reference cultural connection as a pathway of healing for Indigenous communities. The four partially embroidered traditional Palestinian scarves in this print represent family members who will be harmed or lose their lives as I write these words. The number four reminds us of the four stages of life, four seasons, four directions and the four sacred medicines.
In reference to Martin Luther King Jr.’s 1967 speech in opposition of the Vietnam War, attorney and civil rights activist Michelle Alexander writes:
“King’s message was not a hopeless one. To the contrary, he aimed to remind us that we have more creativity and more power and collective genius than we often imagine. He called us to a world-wide fellowship, a radical solidarity, that lifts neighbourly concern beyond one’s tribe, race, class and nation. He called us to embrace an unconditional love for humanity—not just in words but in deeds.”



