The Conversation (Between Humanity and the Ocean) 

Commissioned by the Canadian Ocean Literacy Coalition, Ottawa  Canada
Themes:  Ocean . Sustainability . Creation Care . Dialogue 

​​3 distinct canvases (acrylic, collaged papers, permanent marker on unstretched canvas, 8’x22’)

If we were to speak the same language, what would we say?

I never considered Canada to be an ocean-faring nation, and yet here we are – more coastline than any other country in the world.  When I was commissioned to do this piece, the emphasis was on literacy.  Five artists from five regions of Canada were to use art as a means to take the pulse on ocean literacy.   My region was the landlocked interior; I think Rockies, wheat fields and cattle - not oceans.  For this reason, the large humpback whale was intentional, a quickly accessible visual.  Like many of my pieces these days, my intent was to invite conversation and have people write on the painting.  It so happened that as I set to take this piece on the road to gather words from fellow interior Canadians, coronavirus hit and everything was cancelled.   I managed to meet up with a few individuals before major shutdowns, but most of the words and phrases were gleaned from people who responded to my call through social media platforms.  The response was overwhelming and unexpected:  provocative, funny, poignant, lyrical, silly, challenging. 

What was accomplished?  ​

There were conversations.  Memories were evoked and stories were shared, some of which I was privileged to hear.  But more importantly, I participated in the asking of searching questions.  What actually was written on these canvases was a fraction of what was spoken.  How does one measure that?  One individual shared that she and her friends had an animated discussion ranging from plastics to politics, mixed with memories of clam digs and surfing.  It became too much to summarize; she simply wrote, “Thank-you”. And quiet gazes.  Individuals stood in front of the whale long moments and spoke no words at all.  “Why does this make me want to cry…?” one person asked.  Another stood in front of the hands and wondered at the clamorous nature of them.  "I hadn’t intended them to be that way," I replied.  "We’re takers," he said.  "we must change."

​As for the artist?  I spent days, weeks, in the solitude of my studio painting a great whale I knew nothing about.  As the whale took form, the two of us began a dialogue, spaced out between stretches of silence as we observed one another, curious, thinking about the other’s world.  Neither of us was the same after this encounter, of that I am certain.     
​

A selection of what people shared:

“Do you want to go to the bottom of the sea and eat krill?”  (Student, age 6, Coleman, AB)


“…the most precious thing I could ever give
back to you but somehow never big
enough to permeate the way it wants to
no words enough 
so let it be I love you
let it be thank you
let it be I’m sorry
over and over like a prayer
like a pulse
like a tide…“  (Poet, age 26, Pincher Creek, AB)


“I’m sorry.  I’m sorry I’ve not cared for you more.   I’m sorry for what we’ve done to your home.  I’m sorry that I’ve not understood my role, and I’m sorry that you are so beautiful and I’ve not seen this beauty...”  (Grandmother, 80+, seniors’ lodge, Pincher Creek, AB)


“I’ve watched you frolicking in the Pacific, teaching your calf.  It filled me with awe and curiosity.  If our oceans support such massive life like yours, can we pass downstream what you need to thrive?  It’s noisy on the land, compared to underwater.  We need to listen to you.  Give us advice and help us pass on water quality so that you stay healthy, can continue to raise young and astonish future generations.”  (Outdoor Enthusiast, age 55, Crowsnest Pass, AB)


“My eldest son was diagnosed with severe ADHD as a young boy.  We struggled through years of poor, restless sleep; we tried everything.  When he was 10 years old, we discovered whale songs accompanied with Bach classical music.  This was the only thing that soothed him enough to finally sleep.  He is 29 years old now and still listens to these songs to help him sleep.  Dear whale, thank you for your soothing music.”  (Art Teacher, age 48, Magrath, AB)


“I’ve heard it said that the ocean is salty because it is made of all the tears of all the world’s losses since forever.  It is the giant, salty womb of the earth.  She is the capable healer, pulling down grief and converting pain into life.  She is part of our community, who has received my grief and participated in my healing.  How does one say thank you for that?”  (Community Leader, age 38, Blairmore, AB)


“In Cree we have Nipiy Atayokan, which means Water Spirit.  My mother always said water is healing and this is true in other First Nations beliefs.  That is why we cry, to wash away the pain...”  (Traditional Hoop Dancer, Cree, age 43,  Fort MacLeod, AB)

​To know more about how this whale painting was used in gauging ocean literacy and furthering Canada’s ocean health one conversation at a time, go to www.colcoalition.ca.