Sacred Paint

Serpent River FN – Isaac Murdoch. Feb 7/15

In our prophecies, our paths are already there. In the stories, in the rock paintings. Pictographs were below water a long time ago. Eroding is now exposing the rock paintings to air.

Onamin – Sacred Paint – red clay mixed with fat, urine, duck egg. Cooked. This paint stays there virtually forever. It was used when making the birch bark scrolls.

Sacred Red Earth.

All the medicines were brought here today for the paint.

Serpent River the painting is 40’ long. Little people cut off the horns of the serpent and painted the rocks. They painted their faces to have the power of the serpent. Naniboozhoo painted his face to scare his enemies.

Memigwesag, to commemorate the spirit of the two legged, would paint the rocks. To communicate.

Now the two leggeds try to destroy the earth. We are in a sacred story right now. We are the author of this story right now. We are losing our way.

The little people that live inside the rocks, we used to make offerings to them for our children. What kind of world they will live in.

Documented on the rocks, are the wars, the famines, etc

We feast the paint with blueberries, wild rice, wild meat…Offerings to the water spirit, the serpent, thje paint.

When Isaac was out on the land, he cut his arm good. An elder, a bush man told him to use the blood and urine, boil, and put on the wound.

Some sites are disappearing. We forgot about the land. We need to bring the young ones back to the land. To the Great Spirit of the Land.

At some sites, spray paint was sprayed over the rock paintings. Since, the spray paint has disappeared, and the rock paintings appear.

Rock Paintings came about during hard times. We are in hard times now.

The anishnaabe are not history. We have Now.

Shaking Tent ceremony was used to forecast hunting, fishing, medicines….

The prophecies said what would happen to us. They were precisely true. That we would turn our back on our elders and teachers.

A little boy would return to us. Little boy water drum. On the drum, seven stones, 7 fires of creation, 7 directions, 7 grandfathers, 7 clans, 7 stages of life.

Your spirit was searching. You chose your mom. In the uterus, is the first fire. Connect with your heart. Mothers heart beat. The water broke and you came and took your first breath.

There is a ceremony for the umbilical cord. Wrapped the baby in the moss bag and tiknaagan. The babies then watch everything we do, we connect to our children. The toys hanging in front of them, they cannot reach at first. We teach them patience. You will have those toys one day. Get ready for the moccasin ceremony where he will walk on his natural mother – mtakmikwe. Next is first moontime – berry fast, where they learn to conduct themselves as women. That is so sacred.

Right now mkwa giizis is bringing new bears into the world.

The boys are taught abour fire. Give them flint and a striker. Teach them how it is to be a man of respect and honor. Protectors of the Fire. Look after the fire of the family, community and nation.

Having babies right away when you are too young, that is not knowing patience.

Then the wandering years. Looking for a vision of who we are. Then we become helpers. The elders have the knowledge and it takes wisdom to use it the right way.

We are here to lern mno bimaadziwin.

We should have been home but we were scooped in the 60’s scoop.

We are in a time of healing of our nations and our culture. We are evolving again to govern ourselves. The only ones that will stop us is us. We are told to get ready. Rekindle our fire.

When European women came here they saw that the women were the center of their homes. The European women were property. Men have to stop hurting the children and abusing them. They hurt them for life.

We want to make sure that when we leave this earth that our grandchildren are on the right path.

We are spirit. We all come from the same spirit. We are connected to the land, the water, the fire…

10 million tons of nuclear waste was dumped into the Serpent River. That was our life. People were told that it was safe, that people would be safe. Then they put the dam there and said that was safe. Then the dam burst. 1000’s of fish were floating.

Sacred Paint-Sacred Earth. The Sacred Story we are in right now. What do we do?

At traditional funerals is where we saw paint. They painted over the spirit eye to protect the children. There were many different kinds of paintings. For celebrations, for leaders, for burials, . There were painted stones, carved staffs. Each person has a clan. That was painted on your stone. Painted on our shields, on warrior faces. Our paint is how we show the world who we are and who our people are.

Our teachings have been lost or hidden. We need to tread softly because most of us have forgotten what each pattern and mark means.

If you see a chiefs headdress, don’t touch it. Don’t put it on. We need gatherings to retrieve our teachings.

At pow wows we see many paintings. We don’t know if they are real or made up.

Creator gave each race a way to pray. They are all equal.

The government policies in place override our teachings. They override our water and land. Pray for the water, make offerings to the water.

Pictographs are not for replicating or to take pictures of. Honor our ancestors because we are survivors. But our kids are lost.

Theres an education on the land that we need. Its out there. Theres magic out there. To move forward we need a strong relationship with mother earth.

Christi Belcourt said there were many reasons why people painted. You wore your pain for different reasons. Every single of our nations wore paint. North American indigenous, South American, Central American indigenous. We wore paint to adorn ourselves and to treat ourselves. Different societies wore paint for different reasons. What happened? Why did we stop? Nothing is ever lost. It comes to us. When we need it. the spirit world still has it. We can get it all back when we’re ready.

For 1000’s of years our ancestors wore paint. We stopped because of the missionaries, the indian act, the government , the settlers…They all picked away at us. When photography started, we weren’t wearing paint anymore.

Why red? Maybe we see the power. The red sky. The blood.

The painting, we reveal our true selves. We wear our spirit on the outside of ourselves. Wearing who we are and our ancestors.

It is so easy to lash out, more difficult to be strong.