Taking care: Indigenous carver John Spence creating a moon mask and wolf plaques

 

If Shelley and I had never purchased a float home on traditional lands of the Squamish First Nation in North Vancouver we never would have thought to seek out a local carver to create a moon mask–and I wouldn’t have met John Spence.

John, or ‘JP’, was born and raised on the Capilano Reserve in North Vancouver. The traditional name for the village is Xwemelch’stn, anglicized as Humelchstn which is the largest village within the larger Squamish (Sḵwx̱wú7mesh) Nation. His great grandfather was Chief Capilano and his grandfather Chief Simon Baker—”Khot-La-Cha” which in Squamish dialect means “Man with a kind heart”.

I have always been drawn to masks and a West African secret society) mask figures prominently in my novel. When I asked “JP” to do a carving for our float home we spent some time just getting to know each other. We talked about our mutual backgrounds–he was interested in my collection of African masks and I was curious about how he got into carving in the first place.

Shelley and I wanted a carving that resonated with our sense of family and connectedness. We settled on a large moon mask flanked by two wolves plaques. Together the mask and plaques are symbolic of the protector (moon) and loyalty and family ties (wolves).

Not having a log large enough John asked a friend who contacted another friend and they found rare an old growth yellow cedar from a log sort near Prince Rupert British Columbia.

Judging by the barnacles and mussel shells the log had been in the water some time.

JP first had to block the log to have depth for both the man mask and a moon perimeter–an ambitious size measuring 44 inches across.

JP tells me how things come in fours–how there are four seasons, four directions, talking sticks have four elements and so on. The moon mask has four ovoids which are a traditional Haida design element, and four hands which represent a welcoming element common to west coast first nations.

One day I asked if I could come by while he carved. “Sure” he said. “Today I am working on one of the wolves”.

Turn up the volume, this is what I heard:

http://https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=4lbra4kw1AE

If timelessness has a sound, I think the scraping of JP’s blade through that piece of yellow cedar might be it. The people, JP’s ancestors, have lived here for thousands of years and as long as they have had tools they have probably carved.

JP is an addictions counsellor and he works in Vancouver’s gritty lower east side. He has been sober for seven and a half years. As he carves, I ask him what inspires him…

“It’s my medicine,” he says.

He speaks of the animals he sees. Eagles. Killer whales. Bears. And of the connectedness of every living thing.

“All my relations,” speaks to the oneness of nature-humans, animals, trees, mother earth. For JP it is a guiding metaphor for living in harmony, not with, but within nature. A member of the killer whale clan, JP tells me the story of the day his great-grandmother died–on that day a pod of killer whales (Orcas–or ‘yuy-yus’ in the Sḵwx̱wú7mesh language) were seen breaching at the mouth of the Capilano River close to his home.

The completed moon mask and female and male wolf speak to that spirit in an unexpected way. When I asked JP if he had thought of a name for the three pieces together he smiled. “Your last name is Wuitchik. A moon mask is a protector, as are the wolves. Your name sounds like, “Wey Chewx-Yu”, which in our language means, “You take care”.

Lets call it “Wey Chewx-Yu”.

You take care….