Canadian Culture

from the Ever Wonder collection (1996-2001)

This year I decided that my backyard garden needed an lnuksuk. The idea came to me as I was sitting bleary-eyed in front of the TV after a late-night movie. Before sign-off, the station played an inspiring music video of 'Oh Canada'. In my basement, all alone, I didn't rise to attention. Don't report me as an anti-nationalist.

As images flashed before me at incredible speed, the anthem played on. I experienced a subliminal flash of what appeared to be a rock-man-sort-of-robot. Hey! I knew what that was! I saw a story about it on one of CBC television's 'Heritage Minutes' depicting a Mountie sitting on shield rock with some Inuit. He is wondering what the heck they are doing playing around with a bunch of flat boulders. The red serge dude looks injured and he wants to get home and all these natives want to do is build a statue. He asks what the creation is about and one of the First Nations fellows patiently explains that it’s an lnuksuk which means, 'We were here'.

My lnuksuk is not authentic. It looks kind of like a Go-bot, but much bigger. Version One fell down after the first heavy rain. Fifty-pound rock legs tend to get wobbly in damp soil. My wife was upset because my rock-man crushed her Echinacia. My visiting mother-in-law crushed me by saying she liked the scattered rocks better than “the towering man.” I became determined that Version Two was going to last.

Traditional lnuksuks stand on shield rock and are carefully balanced slabs of granite. I'm told they last for centuries through all kinds of weather. For my sculpture, I had found some great slabs along a highway rock cut. Trouble was, heavy rocks are hard to balance so I used a traditional white man solution. Concrete! Version Two is not going to move without a wrecker's ball. Legs now solidly in place, there he stands, headless, as a sign that I was there.

I'm picky about some things. My lnuksuk must have a head that is not only proportionately sized but evokes a noble bearing. It should make the viewer feel that the figure has a purpose and a direction. Without a proper head-stone how can my lnuksuk lead others or invite comment? My search for the proper head all that week was unsuccessful: There was a puny head, a much too fat head, and a head that was made of a material too different from the rest of its body. Like Goldilocks, the artist in me would not rest until the right head was found to bring my lnuksuk to life.

I wonder if this was how Dr. Frankenstein felt. Perhaps Geppetto, alone in his workshop, laboured hardest carving the head of his beloved Pinocchio. My tribute to Canadian heritage will stand without a head for the time being. Meanwhile, long stemmed red and yellow poppies tap out a rhythm on its strong and sturdy legs. A chipmunk has taken to eating peanuts on its granite shoulders. The head can wait.