So, you're a First Nations artist are you…

I love being creative and I always have. There is this peace in the activity that I can't find anywhere else. It's both meditative and constructive, it has a slowness built into it, and there's something of myself that goes on the page or on the piece of wood or into the glass. I also have this deep love affair with injecting my culture into my art, specifically my first Nations culture, my Tl'azt'en roots.

This brings with it the unique benefits and challenges that come with being identified as a First Nations artist. So, I'm going to speak to that a little.

Painting and creating in the style I do necessarily brings attention to my identity and culture, in part because of the cultural appropriation conversations that are current, but also because people are naturally curious about why an individuals art looks like it does. But, it's a conversation that's very unique to culturally distinct art styles. Very few people get asked what their nation is, or where they're from, or are they ______ culture, if they do ultra realistic portraits. And it brings with it a certain potential; discomfort/irritation/anger because culture is a very intimate conversation and it's assumed by many that if you decide as an artist to express that style that you are also open to discussing whatever that person in front of you wants to discuss as it relates to their understanding of your presumed culture. And this leads down all kinds of rabbit holes, some good and some not, all a little precarious.

Questions range from "what nation are you" to "what do you think of this blockade" and comments like "I'm sure your people are proud of you" and “you definitely know more about this native blockade than I do!” (I don't read the news by the way)

These are not inherently bad questions or comments or talking points but I sometimes take offense/defense when I encounter being racialized. My art style is definitely First Nations influenced but not easily identifiable, not like a mask carved by a traditional Haida artist. So I tend to field even more questions as people try to categorize me further down the "recognized as indigenous but not totally sure what that is or means to me" food chain. One of my main discomforts with this line of conversation is I feel that Damian, the individual, gets lost and replaced with a shallow understanding of who I am based on my ethnicity and filtered through their conciousness.

What I'm getting at is this. I am very proud of my indigenous Tl'azt'en roots. I love talking about them and informing people who are genuinely interested. It's part of the reason I do art. But I'm also deeply moved by color, by the thickness or motion of a line, by nature and all its beauty. I love speaking about emotion and many of my pieces are highly emotionally charged. I think about flow and composition. I rework and repaint and struggle with the artistic process. And that's just speaking to some aspects of my art that I think are very accessible when viewing it.

My very artistic, very visually white mother has never been asked to explain her cultural inputs as it relates to her art or what she thinks about what's happening in Gitsan territory when she's had an art show. This is both curious and telling I think, because my experience is different than my closest blood relative.

So, please keep showing up to my art shows and asking questions about my culture. I welcome this. But be tender and thoughtful about the powerful territory you're entering into when you do. And if you can, remember to ask me about why I used that colour combination. I assure you I've thought a lot about that too

Sna chail'ya