Richard Wagamese

Richard Wagamese is the author of seven titles with major Canadian publishers. He is also a Native American or, as we say in Canada, a First Nations person from the Ojibwa nation. His home territory is a place called Wabaseemoong in northwest Ontario, near the Manitoba border. He has been writing professionally since 1979 in newspapers, radio, television and books. Look for these books by Richard Wagamese One Story, One Song and the new novel Indian Horse both from from Douglas & McIntyre,.

Richard Wagamese, Ojibway Author page on Facebook

Website.

Jun 062012
 

Stuff is only as important as we make it.

by Richard Wagamese

In the corner of our yard nearest the gravel road is an old wringer washer. It sits beneath a fir tree with its barrel filled with earth and dirt and sprouting flowers over the rim. Further back, near the front door, an old wagon wheel leans against a pine tree. Both of them hearken back to a simpler time. Rustic, some might say, but for me merely elegant and uncomplicated.

When we came here we had to disassemble everything, strip away the clutter of life. A painting that seemed relevant in a city context suddenly became unnecessary here. Books that marked the footsteps in a cosmopolitan journey were rendered irrelevant by the presence of bears.

Continue reading »

May 012012
 
RichardWagamese

Slashing funds for Aboriginal health undermines expressed concern.

by Richard Wagamese

Dear Prime Minister:
When I heard your words in the House of Commons that were deemed an apology for the debacle of Canada’s residential school system, I was heartened.  At that time, it was nothing short of amazing to hear a prime minister use the word “wrong” in reference to Canada’s treatment of aboriginal people.

Continue reading »

Apr 222012
 
RichardWagamese

An eager learner grabs at any straw.

by Richard Wagamese

 

I write in the dimness of morning. Outside, the world is a shape shifter. Light eases things back into definition, their boundaries called from shadow, hardening, forming, beginning to hold again and the land shrugs itself into wakefulness, purple moving upward into pearl grey.

Continue reading »

Mar 272012
 

Free spirit mentored a young outsider.

by Richard Wagamese

Some nights there are stirs of echoes in the dark. It's an age thing, I think. Nights when sleep eludes you are the times when things past seem to take on lives of their own and present themselves to you as clear as yesterday. Sleepless. Reflecting. Longing sometimes. Moments when you maybe didn't hold on strong enough or long enough and the spirit of them and the people in them return fully formed, making you understand the nature of regret.

I wonder if everyone gets that. I wonder if it's a part of the human condition to have to exist on the edges of your memory sometimes and replay scenes from your life just to see how much you can actually recall. I know it's not just a First Nations thing. I believe that when you've lived here long enough, your past informs you as much as your present. If as, the Zen people say, the map is not the territory, then revisiting individual landscapes have much to offer us.

Continue reading »

Mar 202012
 

Devious rodent leads householders on merry chase.

by Richard Wagamese

We've lived in our mountain home full time for about five years now. After a lifetime in the city, we've had to learn how to live as rural people. It's been interesting, aggravating and hilarious all at the same time. We came here knowing absolutely nothing and had to learn from scratch. I've lost a few thumbnails, a lot of hair and the odd ounce of blood learning to maintain a rural home. There's a lot of wild stories to be shared with friends about it all.

Continue reading »

Jan 032012
 
RichardWagamese

Even a tiny mouse can bring new vision to a great beast.

by Richard Wagamese

I remember a story told to me a long time ago. It was about a small field mouse who decided that she wanted to see the world. She was curious and friendly and the desire in her to see how big the world could be was honest and pure. She wanted to know. She wanted to learn and discover so she could become more herself. In that, she was a very brave little mouse.

Continue reading »