In my family and tribe, we gift a blanket or quilt to honor people who have been witness to important life events—a tradition shared amongst Indigenous communities. I have come to see blankets as ubiquitous objects that are markers for memories and story. Blankets receive us, and in time, will accompany our departure. It is humbling to think about how we constantly imprint, physically and metaphysically, on these ordinary objects. In particular, ordinary moving blankets have become part of this story and my studio. Moving blankets envelope, protect, and carry—transporting art, creating soft padding for one’s knees when working low to the ground, and from time to time are hung like curtains on the windows.
The twinning language, “sister sister”, is a result of what I like to refer to as the intersection between Marvin Gaye’s knowledge and Indigenous knowledge. In the song “What’s Going On,” Gaye calls out “mother, mother,” “brother, brother,” “sister, sister,” “father, father.” I realize that in a Seneca way and in an Indigenous way, the song would continue to include “grandmother, grandmother, auntie, auntie” as well as “deer, deer, sky, sky, river, river.” Twinning language, connected to the history of call and response, can be employed to cast an urgent message further in distance and space by doubling the call. In an Indigenous way, I’ve come to think of it as a call back to our ancestors and a call forward to future generations.
This piece was made as a gift for Rebecca Dobkins to honor her retirement from Willamette University. Rebecca was not on the faculty when I was a student, but I credit her for bringing me back into the school’s fold, first as an alumni member of the Native American Advisory Council and fellow fan and advocate for Crow’s Shadow Institute for the Arts. Between 2010-2012, Rebecca and I worked closely together on the traveling exhibition Lodge and my first mid-career catalog.
When I was a student at Willamette (1986-1990), there was not an identifiable native community among the students, faculty, or staff even though the school is positioned in the territory of Oregon tribes that now make up the Confederated Tribes of the Grand Ronde. Rebecca must have noticed this upon her arrival because it seems as if she has worked tirelessly to amplify the Indigenous history of this place—mending and healing broken relationships, and righting past wrongs. I wish Rebecca had been on campus when I was a student, but I’ve had the deep pleasure of getting to know her over her tenure. I have the deepest respect for her work, not just on campus, but in the community at large.