It is ready, two first pieces of video films are edited, they are done, and my brain waves show zero activity. Summer came and went during this time, as I was submerged on these tales and takes, loved it though, swam a lot and produced the skin that is tolerant to cold waters, swimming pools seem unpleasantly warm now. Heard that it happens to Inuit people, and it seems it can happen to finns too.
Riverness Sagas first part was screened in Valmed Rys Video-Etkot in Kuvakukko Movie Theatre. Parts 1 and 2 will be exhibited in MOVED BY NATURE exhibition in US, Michigan Hancock, Finnish Heritage Center Gallery, along together with two other artist, Satu Miettinen and Riitta Ikonen.
I love their work, so something wonderful cooking up in this exhibition opening at 21rst of September 2017.
CHECK OUT the RIVERNESS SAGA 1 and 2 from the menu up
MY RIVERNESS is a video poetry, and something, about my mom and my other many foremothers in Kiiminki, and about how I experienced River as sensitive being as a child. It is influenced by the myth of VETEHINEN AND ILMATAR, first being a God of Water, and second Goddess of Air, in old Finnish mythology. Vetehinen comes from the Finnish word Vesi, water, where as Ilmatar comes from the word Ilma, air. ILMATAR created the world, when she was impregnated by the sea and wind. My mom would talk about them often, mainly using them as a mean to warn us to be careful and respectful around waters.
My mom created me from the river. She took me to her swims already when I was four. No morning swim was escaped for me after that, ever. She toughed me to swim then, float or dive and to tackle the many currents underneath. I think her aim was not ever worry about me, because the river run all over my village, filled with white waters. She would take me across the river, and let me rest on her belly, as she turned around. Once a huge butterfly, Old World Swallowtail, landed on our little human isle, on my belly, and rested too. After that I have never seen one.
By the age of ten I already had my own boat, which I took to the river everyday, no rapid or current would stop me, I knew them all. Our playground was the river, most of the stories were about the river, people lived on the its banks, all the seasons were dictated by its flow. She was very persistent on how we would grow up as women. She was buried up the hill near by the river, an article about my exhibition, and notes of a song “ Peregrine Falcon” were buried with her. I know she left her resting site for the sea long ago, washed by the rains already the following spring after her passing, because when me and my sister went to visit her, we heart the Peregrine Falcon scream above us high up in the clouds. That day the newspapers of Northern Finland wrote that there had been several sightings of a Peregrine Falcons, migrating up to Lapland, although they were already thought to be on the verge of extinction in the area.