A gnarled log I observed last week combined with the collection of bee specimens at the natural history museum. Focusing in to the minute details of this imaginary walk in the woods, the bees brutally jammed on pins into the folds of bark like a shrike’s larder or a sadistic game by some unknown hand.

(detail from picture above)

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The Banff Merman lives in a cabinet in the Indian Trading Post between the carved walking sticks and souvenir t-shirts. I think of circus side-shows with the promise of beautiful merfolk …. paintings depicting impossibly beautiful human forms who dance effortlessly through water with the power of iridescent scales and fins. What you actually receive is wonderfully alarming and grotesque.

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I was told a traditional tale. I am looking for a fuller version at present but also finding such a wealth of First Nations mythology. A girl walks through the forests to visit her grandmother. On the way she sees a large bear turd. She laughs and kicks it across the forest floor. The Bear witnesses this act and feels humiliated. For her lack of respect she must pay for her mistake by becoming Bear’s wife. Bear takes her as his wife and mates with her. She becomes pregnant and gives birth to his cubs.

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