I can’t believe we’re nearing the end of the second year of Alameda Native Art, and the Alameda Native History Project, already. I feel like I’ve been sleeping on this site. Now there’s a whole bunch of stuff to add, and update.
The ANHP Wiki reached it’s functional limit on Tuesday; when it broke for the last time. Hopefully, DokuWiki, or MediaWiki will upgrade their code a little in the next update. (Fingers crossed.)
I opened a Merchandise section to see if I could offer more prints and stickers for cheaper than RedBubble does. (It’s expensive.) But… I need the storefront and everything to be fully automatic, because I can’t be bothered with processing orders, payments, and shipping. And, I’m also not gonna buy 1,000 stickers, and just hope I can sell them all.
I have considered buying a bunch of slaps to give away or send to friends. That’s always an option.
New Content Coming
Lemme just list the things I’ve done in the past couple of months:
Visual Art, Maps, Graphic Design
- San Francisco Bay Area Tribal Language Groups Map
- San Francisco Bay Area Tribal Groups Map
- And combinations of the above, sometimes with the San Francisco Bay Region Shellmounds Map
- Verona Area Maps
- Cover Art of various Historical Newspaper Articles, and for Books
- Social Justice Art
- Other collages.
I have a number of write-ups to start. I’ve got some drafts to re-visit, and finish; as well as new topics. And, lots of pages to update, and redesign, with all this content.
Writing, Stories, Serials
I’ve been having difficulty deciding whether or not I want to start talking about ghosts, and spirits, and stuff. I know it’s close to Halloween now, and everything….
And I’m concurrently devoting a lot of time to a project that is rooted in fact, and basically exalts the kinds of documentary evidence that does not exist, and cannot be found, when it comes to ghosts, and spirits, (and stuff.)
But I desperately need to address the spiritual intersectionality of being Native American–and having a spirituality that is deeply connected with the earth and the celestial bodies–and doing something which is supposed to be “administered”, or carried on dispassionately.
I can’t argue with my feelings as if they’re facts. I can’t use a hunch; a hummingbird; or the faint sound of singing on the wind as evidence.
I want to tell you that these things led me to the shellmounds; showed me to the evidence; helped me out without any real information to go off of. That I seemed to arrive there by magic, or Luck (with a capital “L”.)
Common Sense isn’t scientific, either. But this is investigative journalism, if you really put me in a corner. I’m just answering all of the questions I had as kid; I’m trying to accumulate all the information I need to form a model of “what it looked like” in my head. Somehow continuing an inquiry-based education.
But this journey is based on a deep-seeded wound that I have held on to for too long. Something I still can’t really define, yet. (But I’m working on it.) It has to do with my adoption. And my search for myself, and my birth family.