More about my traditional markings (aka tattoos).
This is a page to learn more about my traditional markings. A disclaimer that applies to the entirety of my website:
I am one individual Iñupiaq person, not an elected representative of all things Iñupiaq. The insights I share here come from conversations with Elders that I am connected to from my community and also the larger Iñupiaq and Inuit communities in the Arctic and beyond. The insights I share here are also from my own research and from conversations with people and culture bearers who research the traditional marking practice. The insights I share here are from my own perspective of being raised as an Iñupiaq, and from dreams that I have as well as other conversations I have with my Ancestors. There are many different understandings of the traditional markings, many different ways of interpreting the designs, the intent and the entire practice is in a process of revitalization, which is exciting. My comments here and the sharing of my understandings around the practice is not meant to diminish or discount other understandings or other ways of knowing about this practice. All this being said, I can speak confidently here about my personal understanding and my relationship to the traditional marking practice and revitalization efforts, of which I am a part.
I started this particular traditional marking page as a way for people to get to know me more, as there are a lot of questions that arise from meeting me and seeing the markings that I carry. When I was speaking with my mentors that I have for my music artistic practice, they mentioned that it could be helpful to have a page that contains more of the stories behind my markings, so that there can be more cultural understanding. This page serves as a place for people to learn more without having to ask me directly, in person. I am happy to share my understandings, and I appreciate and respect all the other perspectives and understandings around this practice, as the practice is in a process of revitalization, which calls for gentleness and an open-mind as we collectively bring the practice back to our peoples. In this sharing, I also ask for there to be protection around this information, around the designs, around the information that is shared, as it needs to be respected. We need space to do this practice in a good way for future generations.
The most frequently asked question that I get is around my chin marking, which is prominent on my face. You can see it on the photo below. Now look more closely at the photo. Can you see that I have an underlayer, a marking that is fuschia and chartreuse? It is between the fourth and fifth lines on my chin, counting from the left to the right. That is my first traditional marking, that I received with a tattoo gun when I turned 40. I will look and find a better photo, of when I first got my initial marking at the age of 40.
I got the first marking after my mom got her marking at the age of 70. She has one line down her chin, "just like my grandmother's" she said. My Mom got hers done in a tattoo studio in Anchorage, with a tattoo gun, by a woman tattoo artist. She was the first person of Kaktovik to get the chin marking done, and I got mine done about three months after she got it done.
When I talk about the chin markings, I usually say something like this: "there are two markings that most all Inuit women would have done in their lifetime, the chin and the fingers. Depending on the region, more markings might be held, depending on the individuals as well." My understanding is that the chin marking would be given to a young woman in the community when she has her first menses, her first menstral cycle. It was a way to show that the young woman was now "ready for marriage" and that she had become a woman, no longer a little girl. There was no one set design or standard marking for everyone across the board. It was individualistic in nature, and today, many women who are getting their chin markings look towards photos of their female relatives to get clues on how they are going to design and carry their own markings, in their own lifetime. For example, my Mom wanted to get the exact same marking as her grandmother, so she did. For me, for my first marking, I took a big piece of paper with many many different possible markings of my own design and I got into a prayerful, meditative state, and I prayed and asked for help from my female Ancestors to help me pick the right design. I hovered my finger over the page with my eyes closed and it landed on a design that I trusted to go forward with, and I brought the design to my friend, who is a tattoo artist who uses a western style tattoo gun, and through a conversation with him, the design changed slightly so it would work better with my face. I wanted to use the pink and green colors because those are two colors that I gravitate to naturally, and I wanted it to be color because I would like to think if my great-great-great relative had access to a full spectrum of colors (instead of soot and other natural materials available to her) she might choose a pink or a purple or even a green. I wanted to push the envelope of what a traditional chin marking could look like, as a way of being inspirational to others thinking of getting their own markings. Even though I had the marking done in a tattoo studio by a Korean tattoo artist who was using a western style tattoo gun, I feel that I brought in the traditional aspects of the practice, as I played Iñupiaq traditional drumming and songs from Kaktovik while the marking was happening, and two Indigenous women friends of mine were present while I got it done. The entire process was also filmed, by an Indigenous man filmmaker, as well as by a female Navaho filmmaker. I do not have the footage, yet it does exist and I hope to be reunited with it at some point. Yes, it was painful, but not too much. I wasn't focused on that aspect of getting the marking done. It was transformative and a spiritual experience for me. I was very grateful for the environment that was present, that I was able to pray and smudge before hand, and that I had two Indigenous female friends with me to hold my hand and be present with me in Vegas.
I will add on to this story soon. Many more stories to share here. Thank you for helping to guard this practice.
I am one individual Iñupiaq person, not an elected representative of all things Iñupiaq. The insights I share here come from conversations with Elders that I am connected to from my community and also the larger Iñupiaq and Inuit communities in the Arctic and beyond. The insights I share here are also from my own research and from conversations with people and culture bearers who research the traditional marking practice. The insights I share here are from my own perspective of being raised as an Iñupiaq, and from dreams that I have as well as other conversations I have with my Ancestors. There are many different understandings of the traditional markings, many different ways of interpreting the designs, the intent and the entire practice is in a process of revitalization, which is exciting. My comments here and the sharing of my understandings around the practice is not meant to diminish or discount other understandings or other ways of knowing about this practice. All this being said, I can speak confidently here about my personal understanding and my relationship to the traditional marking practice and revitalization efforts, of which I am a part.
I started this particular traditional marking page as a way for people to get to know me more, as there are a lot of questions that arise from meeting me and seeing the markings that I carry. When I was speaking with my mentors that I have for my music artistic practice, they mentioned that it could be helpful to have a page that contains more of the stories behind my markings, so that there can be more cultural understanding. This page serves as a place for people to learn more without having to ask me directly, in person. I am happy to share my understandings, and I appreciate and respect all the other perspectives and understandings around this practice, as the practice is in a process of revitalization, which calls for gentleness and an open-mind as we collectively bring the practice back to our peoples. In this sharing, I also ask for there to be protection around this information, around the designs, around the information that is shared, as it needs to be respected. We need space to do this practice in a good way for future generations.
The most frequently asked question that I get is around my chin marking, which is prominent on my face. You can see it on the photo below. Now look more closely at the photo. Can you see that I have an underlayer, a marking that is fuschia and chartreuse? It is between the fourth and fifth lines on my chin, counting from the left to the right. That is my first traditional marking, that I received with a tattoo gun when I turned 40. I will look and find a better photo, of when I first got my initial marking at the age of 40.
I got the first marking after my mom got her marking at the age of 70. She has one line down her chin, "just like my grandmother's" she said. My Mom got hers done in a tattoo studio in Anchorage, with a tattoo gun, by a woman tattoo artist. She was the first person of Kaktovik to get the chin marking done, and I got mine done about three months after she got it done.
When I talk about the chin markings, I usually say something like this: "there are two markings that most all Inuit women would have done in their lifetime, the chin and the fingers. Depending on the region, more markings might be held, depending on the individuals as well." My understanding is that the chin marking would be given to a young woman in the community when she has her first menses, her first menstral cycle. It was a way to show that the young woman was now "ready for marriage" and that she had become a woman, no longer a little girl. There was no one set design or standard marking for everyone across the board. It was individualistic in nature, and today, many women who are getting their chin markings look towards photos of their female relatives to get clues on how they are going to design and carry their own markings, in their own lifetime. For example, my Mom wanted to get the exact same marking as her grandmother, so she did. For me, for my first marking, I took a big piece of paper with many many different possible markings of my own design and I got into a prayerful, meditative state, and I prayed and asked for help from my female Ancestors to help me pick the right design. I hovered my finger over the page with my eyes closed and it landed on a design that I trusted to go forward with, and I brought the design to my friend, who is a tattoo artist who uses a western style tattoo gun, and through a conversation with him, the design changed slightly so it would work better with my face. I wanted to use the pink and green colors because those are two colors that I gravitate to naturally, and I wanted it to be color because I would like to think if my great-great-great relative had access to a full spectrum of colors (instead of soot and other natural materials available to her) she might choose a pink or a purple or even a green. I wanted to push the envelope of what a traditional chin marking could look like, as a way of being inspirational to others thinking of getting their own markings. Even though I had the marking done in a tattoo studio by a Korean tattoo artist who was using a western style tattoo gun, I feel that I brought in the traditional aspects of the practice, as I played Iñupiaq traditional drumming and songs from Kaktovik while the marking was happening, and two Indigenous women friends of mine were present while I got it done. The entire process was also filmed, by an Indigenous man filmmaker, as well as by a female Navaho filmmaker. I do not have the footage, yet it does exist and I hope to be reunited with it at some point. Yes, it was painful, but not too much. I wasn't focused on that aspect of getting the marking done. It was transformative and a spiritual experience for me. I was very grateful for the environment that was present, that I was able to pray and smudge before hand, and that I had two Indigenous female friends with me to hold my hand and be present with me in Vegas.
I will add on to this story soon. Many more stories to share here. Thank you for helping to guard this practice.
Continuing of the story...
Above is a photo of my first chin marking, done on May 3, 2013. Now you can look at the photo above and see if you can see the original marking, peeking through.
I wrote the first part of this story last night, and this story has been close to my heart, the telling of it. I began to reflect on the reasons why this kind of personal information about the traditional markings isn't normally shared through the written word, how the sharing usually happens orally, from one person to the next, and only those brave enough to ask are given an answer. The answer could be generic or deeply personal, depending on the receiver and the reading the teller of the story gets from the receiver of the story. I have been thinking about the ways that people approach me when they ask, and about my different answers I have in my pocket, depending on so many factors, the biggest one being the amount of time I have to speak to the asking party. It is always amazing to me how many people are too shy to ask, or too intimidated, or just not curious enough. I can sense when the asking is going to happen, and I am generous during these moments, as I know it takes courage to find the right words to hold onto when they approach me about something so personal, my face.
I reminded myself that even though it is easier for me to have a one stop place for me to point people to when they are asking me about my markings, there is some danger contained here within this page, these words that you are reading, right now. Many possible dangers. For one, people could come to this site, assume I am some kind of defacto authority on the subject, and then position my information against other information that conflicts with what I say, or against their total non-information, doing no other research other than landing on my site. Once again, I am not the defacto authority and there are many different regional opinions and ways, many different stories and many different understandings of this practice. Another danger is that people who are attracted to the markings might feel empowered to get Inuit facial markings or other traditional Inuit markings on themselves, without any interaction with an actual Inuit person, without thinking about the cultural layers involved and how these actions could feel like a personal attack, like a different kind of intellectual and physical warfare. Another group of non-Inuit people might just be looking for cool designs to put on totes or t-shirts, appropriating our cultural elements without permission, without context, without a relationship to Inuit peoples or communities. Also, my relationship to the practice grows and changes through time, though my own research and interaction with Elders. There is a deepening process, one that matures over time, and these words written in 2019 could not possible encapsulate how my Ancestors felt about it in 1819, or where we might be at with it in 2119. So the danger has something to do with static-ness. Oral tradition is more flexible and adaptable. When you ask me in person, the information is up-to-date.
Yet, I am going to continue to share. Just please remember, this is a sacred space on the inter-web, a space not to co-opt, or appropriate or steal from or mis-use. It is a place that is protected.
Now, back to my story of my chin...
I wrote the first part of this story last night, and this story has been close to my heart, the telling of it. I began to reflect on the reasons why this kind of personal information about the traditional markings isn't normally shared through the written word, how the sharing usually happens orally, from one person to the next, and only those brave enough to ask are given an answer. The answer could be generic or deeply personal, depending on the receiver and the reading the teller of the story gets from the receiver of the story. I have been thinking about the ways that people approach me when they ask, and about my different answers I have in my pocket, depending on so many factors, the biggest one being the amount of time I have to speak to the asking party. It is always amazing to me how many people are too shy to ask, or too intimidated, or just not curious enough. I can sense when the asking is going to happen, and I am generous during these moments, as I know it takes courage to find the right words to hold onto when they approach me about something so personal, my face.
I reminded myself that even though it is easier for me to have a one stop place for me to point people to when they are asking me about my markings, there is some danger contained here within this page, these words that you are reading, right now. Many possible dangers. For one, people could come to this site, assume I am some kind of defacto authority on the subject, and then position my information against other information that conflicts with what I say, or against their total non-information, doing no other research other than landing on my site. Once again, I am not the defacto authority and there are many different regional opinions and ways, many different stories and many different understandings of this practice. Another danger is that people who are attracted to the markings might feel empowered to get Inuit facial markings or other traditional Inuit markings on themselves, without any interaction with an actual Inuit person, without thinking about the cultural layers involved and how these actions could feel like a personal attack, like a different kind of intellectual and physical warfare. Another group of non-Inuit people might just be looking for cool designs to put on totes or t-shirts, appropriating our cultural elements without permission, without context, without a relationship to Inuit peoples or communities. Also, my relationship to the practice grows and changes through time, though my own research and interaction with Elders. There is a deepening process, one that matures over time, and these words written in 2019 could not possible encapsulate how my Ancestors felt about it in 1819, or where we might be at with it in 2119. So the danger has something to do with static-ness. Oral tradition is more flexible and adaptable. When you ask me in person, the information is up-to-date.
Yet, I am going to continue to share. Just please remember, this is a sacred space on the inter-web, a space not to co-opt, or appropriate or steal from or mis-use. It is a place that is protected.
Now, back to my story of my chin...
My newest marking was done on May 9th, 2018 by a traditional marking practitioner named Stefanie Towarak, a close friend of mine. As you can see by the photo above, I covered up my original pink and green marking with a more expected black ink design. The marking was done not with a tattoo gun, but with our traditional marking techniques. There were many reasons that I decided to get the additional marking done at this time in my life. One reason was that I had gotten more traditional markings done on other parts of my body, done with the traditional techniques, in black. I appreciated the black, the look of the markings that stood out more on my skin. Also, my pink and green chin had faded so much that it was not immediately perceptible upon meeting me. Many times, people who knew me well were surprised to finally discover my chin marking, and on photos, it could not always be perceived. I did have an appreciation for the subtlety of my marking, and I was comfortable in it. Yet, I started to notice more and more Iñupiaq women getting their chin markings, their tavluġun.
Tavluġun. My chin.
I had talked to my Mom, an Iñupiaq Elder about her understanding about how the markings were given, and for what reason. She agreed that a young woman would get one when she "became a woman", and that additional markings could be added to the chin if you got married, or if you had kids. Also, my mom shared that it could be done if you "did something big". Me, being a person who has never been married, has never had kids, really latched onto this "did something big" idea.
You can see that my marking extends up from my chin, up onto my lips, which is unusual. Iḷummiiŋ, (my dear great-grandmother) had her lips marked as part of her tavlu (chin). I have a photo of her, and I have been able to zoom in to see the details. One of my cousins had gotten her chin marking about 5 years ago or so, and I commented on her marking, asking her, "What photo did you use of our great-grandmother to make the marking?" She was confused as to what I had been talking about. I asked again about the photo of our great-grandmother, as my cousin had replicated the marking of our great-grandmother's chin almost exactly. Almost. My cousin didn't continue the design up onto the lips. Yet, without seeing the photo, my cousin had almost exactly given herself the same marking as our great-grandmother.
Knowing that my cousin had done this amazing feat made me not want to replicate our great-grandmother's marking exactly. I knew that I wanted to mark my lips in the same way as our great-grandmother, then make a new design for the rest of my chin. Another part of marking my lips was a desire to be connected to my great-grandmother's lived experience, as she also must have felt similar pain (or perhaps not) as she got her marking done. I wanted to continue on her marking, to show the line that I belong to, to show my love for my great-grandmother.
The rest of the marking was designed in tandem with Stefanie Towarak and the Ancestors present with us during this process. We knew that we wanted to work with the existing initial chin design that I had gotten in pink and green, not against it. We also knew that we wanted to mark my lips, similar to my great-grandmother. The rest of the design came very organically and felt right. I am deeply grateful for the process we went through to come to the final marking design, as well as the process of completing the marking itself.
My new chin marking, the putting of it on my face happened in a certain timing, as a way of showing "doing something big". I timed the marking to be visible at the same time as receiving my 2019 Rasmuson Individual Artist Award in the field of New Genre. It felt good and right to do so, and I also had more personal reasons for the marking at the time.
More soon!....
Tavluġun. My chin.
I had talked to my Mom, an Iñupiaq Elder about her understanding about how the markings were given, and for what reason. She agreed that a young woman would get one when she "became a woman", and that additional markings could be added to the chin if you got married, or if you had kids. Also, my mom shared that it could be done if you "did something big". Me, being a person who has never been married, has never had kids, really latched onto this "did something big" idea.
You can see that my marking extends up from my chin, up onto my lips, which is unusual. Iḷummiiŋ, (my dear great-grandmother) had her lips marked as part of her tavlu (chin). I have a photo of her, and I have been able to zoom in to see the details. One of my cousins had gotten her chin marking about 5 years ago or so, and I commented on her marking, asking her, "What photo did you use of our great-grandmother to make the marking?" She was confused as to what I had been talking about. I asked again about the photo of our great-grandmother, as my cousin had replicated the marking of our great-grandmother's chin almost exactly. Almost. My cousin didn't continue the design up onto the lips. Yet, without seeing the photo, my cousin had almost exactly given herself the same marking as our great-grandmother.
Knowing that my cousin had done this amazing feat made me not want to replicate our great-grandmother's marking exactly. I knew that I wanted to mark my lips in the same way as our great-grandmother, then make a new design for the rest of my chin. Another part of marking my lips was a desire to be connected to my great-grandmother's lived experience, as she also must have felt similar pain (or perhaps not) as she got her marking done. I wanted to continue on her marking, to show the line that I belong to, to show my love for my great-grandmother.
The rest of the marking was designed in tandem with Stefanie Towarak and the Ancestors present with us during this process. We knew that we wanted to work with the existing initial chin design that I had gotten in pink and green, not against it. We also knew that we wanted to mark my lips, similar to my great-grandmother. The rest of the design came very organically and felt right. I am deeply grateful for the process we went through to come to the final marking design, as well as the process of completing the marking itself.
My new chin marking, the putting of it on my face happened in a certain timing, as a way of showing "doing something big". I timed the marking to be visible at the same time as receiving my 2019 Rasmuson Individual Artist Award in the field of New Genre. It felt good and right to do so, and I also had more personal reasons for the marking at the time.
More soon!....