Mining In Bc's Sacred Headwaters

What Could Be More Lonely Than To Be Enveloped In Silence, To Be The Last Of Your People To Speak Your Native Tongue, To Have No Way To Pass On The Wisdom Of The Elders, To Anticipate The Promise Of The Children. This Tragic Fate Is Indeed The Plight Of Someone Somewhere Roughly Every Two Weeks.

On Paper I Would Be A Rather Bold Individual In Our Culture.

To Have That Powder Blown Up Your Nose Is Rather Like Being Shot Out Of A Rifle Barrel Lined With Baroque Paintings And Landing On A Sea Of Electricity.

The World In Which You Were Born Is Just One Model Of Reality. Other Cultures Are Not Failed Attempts At Being You; They Are Unique Manifestations Of The Human Spirit.

If Diversity Is A Source Of Wonder, Its Opposite - The Ubiquitous Condensation To Some Blandly Amorphous And Singularly Generic Modern Culture That Takes For Granted An Impoverished Environment - Is A Source Of Dismay. There Is, Indeed, A Fire Burning Over The Earth, Taking With It Plants And Animals, Cultures, Languages, Ancient Skills And Visionary Wisdom. Quelling This Flame, And Re-inventing The Poetry Of Diversity Is Perhaps The Most Important Challenge Of Our Times.