Artist Statement
I write from a rooted connection to place, and the memories embedded within place. At times the memories are held collectively, at others, they are personal. At times, my poems serve as a code that cover the deeper issue or current news that I am meditating on. There is a healing element to my writing, an intention of delivering medicine, even if the taste is bitter or lingers too long.
In "we acknowledge ourselves", I consulted with a tribal leader of the Native Village of Kaktovik, an Elder of Kaktovik and a woman younger than I, who lives in the village and who agreed that her name could be part of the poem. I wrote the poem first, and then read it to two of them out loud, the third chose to quietly read it to themselves. They gave feedback, and I made slight adjustments.
For 'let's try it this way for the last ones', I submitted the poem and while I was waiting to hear back, I read it to a favorite Auntie. She was impacted by the poem emotionally and she gave confirmation to me that it was good that I was "being a writer".
I had a dream that my Ancestors were all holding signs, and they were lined up. They all spoke in unison, and the signs had the same words that they voiced, in a fun, well-rehearsed way. "We want you to become a writer!". I was moved by the dream and the effort that it took to coordinate themselves, and I had been published in 1991 in Red Ink Magazine, and had quietly written since I was a young woman, yet after that dream, I chose to shift my artistic practice more towards writing than performance.
In "we acknowledge ourselves", I consulted with a tribal leader of the Native Village of Kaktovik, an Elder of Kaktovik and a woman younger than I, who lives in the village and who agreed that her name could be part of the poem. I wrote the poem first, and then read it to two of them out loud, the third chose to quietly read it to themselves. They gave feedback, and I made slight adjustments.
For 'let's try it this way for the last ones', I submitted the poem and while I was waiting to hear back, I read it to a favorite Auntie. She was impacted by the poem emotionally and she gave confirmation to me that it was good that I was "being a writer".
I had a dream that my Ancestors were all holding signs, and they were lined up. They all spoke in unison, and the signs had the same words that they voiced, in a fun, well-rehearsed way. "We want you to become a writer!". I was moved by the dream and the effort that it took to coordinate themselves, and I had been published in 1991 in Red Ink Magazine, and had quietly written since I was a young woman, yet after that dream, I chose to shift my artistic practice more towards writing than performance.
Residencies
2022 Bunnell Street Arts Center - Poetry
2017 Djerassi Resident Artist Program - Creative Writing
Work
2023
featured poet at Titiraqtat Inuit Circumpolar Writers Festival, Iqaluit, Nuvavut, Canada
poetry reading at Künstlerhaus Stuttgart, in Stuttgart, Germany as part of the Center for Native Arts and Cultures: Convenings on Land Reclamation
2022
2018
twitter poems installed throughout the Anchorage Museum, 2018 to 2023.
2017
TAIMANISAAQ/AKKUPAK (the long long ago/right now) twitter poem book published by the Anchorage Museum, Anchorage, Alaska. No ISBN number, internal publication of the Anchorage Museum, limited run printing.
Bibliography
Hensley, P. (2017), 'Finding Magic: The Future/Ancient of Allison Akootchook Warden'. Available: https://www.pressreader.com/canada/inuit-art-quarterly/20171205/281560881122643 [Accessed: December 10, 2023].
Pataky, J. (2017), 'Reading spring in woods'. Available: https://www.anchoragepress.com/arts_and_entertainment/reading-spring-in-the-woods/article_0f5f0e54-3683-11e7-ac63-ab1cb5efcf01.html [Accessed: December 10, 2023].