Portfolio: Jason Sikoak

December 2017

Thought and Memory.Pen and ink on archive quality paper, 31 1/2″ high x 36″ wide.

Thought and Memory

The shamans spirit helpers, his connection to the spirit world, assist the shaman in his connection to

the physical world.

They remind him of the season of the caribou; birthing times, when they pass the winter homes, when they return inland again.

They remind him of the tides of the seals; when they come up on the ice to breed, when they group up to move north, when they are fat enough that they won’t sink if you kill them.

They remind him of the long gathering days of summer and the short leaner days of winter; and what we must do to survive both and from where…

Now they remind his grandsons grandson, there was a time when the land, sea and the air were a part of us and we were but a part of it. There was a time when you ate what the land provided; there were lean times as well as fat.

There was a time when we didn’t need a license to feed our families; there was a time when we needn’t worry that our water was poisoned; a time when it was hard, but it was worth while for we had a sense of freedom.

Now those times to him are just a part of someone else’s Thought and Memory.

 

Her…18″ x 24″ wide, pen and ink, archive quality 140 lb. cold pressed water colour paper

Her…

It’s her scream that is drowned by salt water as she is thrown from the boat by her father…

Her ears are filled with the great rushing wind caused by her husbands ink black wings before she is deafened by the cold stormy sea…

Her body feels the sea calm, her hope that the storm of her husbands rage is done…

It’s her fingers that grasp the side of the boat, her cries for help as her face breaks the surface…

Her husbands anger causes the seas to boil in rage yet again…

It’s her fingers that first feel explosive pain…

Her pain that escapes in a scream that is once more drowned in salt water…

It’s her tears that mix with the salt water as she realizes her father sacrificed her to save himself…

It is her that is lost in the blackness…

It is her fingers that transform to become the animals of the sea… the seal that would forever feed her fathers people…

As it is her that keeps these animals from the hunters harpoon…

Her will that sometimes takes a hunter to her bosom…

It is also her will that allows the angakkuk to come and comb and braid her hair…To allow her children to feed her people…

It is also her that was drowned out of the souls of her people by a god who can walk on water…
Her…

Her that refuses to be forgotten…

Her fathers children children… they will remember

How could we ever forget…

Her

The Hunter. From the private collection of Suzie Napayok, pen and ink on archival quality paper, approximately 36″ high x 48″ wide.

The Hunter

Stories from my father, dreams, racial memories… sometimes I don’t know where ideas come from…

How I wish we still lived, how I wish I could live…

Simply put, I am Inuk, and as an artist is how I live… I try to represent the struggles we face… but also of good times… when the hunting was good, or when we got our first kill of seal, of caribou and we shared it with our family.

Sacrilege. Pen and ink on archive quality paper, 124.5 cm x 165.1 cm. First published in the catalog ìSakKij‚juk: Art and Craft from Nunatsiavut, Heather Igloliorte. Permanent collection of The Rooms, currently on tour.

Sacrilege

Interested in seeing more from Jason Sikoak? Please see the Winter issue of the Newfoundland Quarterly, now available on stands.

Roxanne

BY Ryan Clowe

A woman stands at a gas pump outside Circle K, fueling her black hatchback. I am drawn to her pink zip-up jacket, a bright fashion statement against the dreariness of…