Talking Story with Tomas Jonnsson
When ice cream and conversation collide...
Today, Amethyst and I had the pleasure to meet am artist named Tomas Jonsson. Tomas is an artist-in-residence at the Markerville Creamery at the Buttermaker's house in Markerville. If you haven't been there for ice cream and you live in central Alberta, you're missing out.
We go and get our ice cream, sit down to enjoy it, and we notice this poster on the table.
Artist Residency
A long form collaborative, performative bio-text exploring the complex intersections of personal, social, and economic values that inform a place.
Then we noticed this gentleman walking towards us that looks familiar. And it turned out that it was Tomas Jonnsson.
We said hello, then he went into the creamery to order a meal, and then he came out and sat down with us.
We were sitting there, filling our faces with ice cream while chatting with Tomas. Amethyst inquired what he meant by bio-text. Tomas replied, "It's about biology and writing about it."
I can't remember the exact thread of our conversation, but then we ended up talking about the meaning of place. It's something that resonated with me. When I was in Hawaii in 2007, I spent a lot of time there with the Hawaiian community, and they talk a lot about place and talking story. I believe the meaning of the word "Hawaii" is the homeland. The Hawaiian Islands were originally settled by Polynesians who arrived in the archipelago around 1,500 years ago.
In my conversations with a few different indigenous people I have met over the years it is clear that the meaning and significance of land “the homeland” is spiritually significant.
Whether it's Hawaii. Maori of New Zealand, Navajo, Lakota, Cree Aboriginal Australians and the Sami people of Northern Europe —land features prominently in their lives, spirituality and stewardship.
This started me thinking more about when we meet people, we want to know where they're from, which is indirectly asking where they're located on the land of the earth.
Then I interjected how I learned how the Hawaiian people speak story. I believe the call it “talking story”. Which started me thinking about just how much, just how important it is to tell our story and how it's connected to the land.
Since that conversation, I've been pondering a few questions.
Who are we without place, land?
Who are we without a story, our past or our history?
What is our anchor in life? To what are we connected?
I don't know that I have the answers, but I'm certainly curious. After all, without somebody to tell our story to, or share life with, what's the purpose in living? I remember when I was younger I used to hear the phrase, "He who dies with the most toys wins."
Looking back over my lifetime, the toys are meaningless, unless you don’t have any or want more. The other people in our lives provide texture, personality, perspective and character to an otherwise average day. We get meaning from human connections. Other people, family, teachers, friends and acquaintances bring meaningful. We all learn from others, failure, experimentation and observation. Where would any of us be without our parents or somebody that was caring for us to teach us how to walk, talk, and to be in relationships?
They each contribute to our learning, the way we think, how we feel, and how we choose to live.
When in a conversation, it's kind of like being in a helicopter. We can follow along with the other person's words and see where they take us to get the perspective through their words and eyes.
I forget when I realized that the person in control of a conversation is the one listening, not the speaker. This is because the listener is able to think, make connections and assess how the other persons words resonate with them.
I was in my 30’s when I realized the power of a great question, especially an open-ended question. Why? Am open ended question forces the other person to explain their answer. When you ask a closed question (to which the answer is only yes or no) all you get is a binary answer.
An open-ended question allows you to enter into sharing another human's point of view. Be careful, you might just be pleasantly surprised what you learn when you listen, sincerely.
When we got back home, Amethyst and I started talking about Place as a landscape painter. Place, land, the Earth - this is paramount. Here's a sampling of her work.
