ARTIST REFLECTION on Ms. Jane’s Fine Dining

Ms. Janes Fine Dining in Fife Washington, is where culinary excellence meets cultural inspiration. Drawing from the rich landscapes and traditions of Coast Salish culture, their exquisite menu features premium steaks, seafood, pasta, and a curated wine list that promises a remarkable dining experience.

As we celebrate the grand opening on August 22nd, this event is more than just a milestone for delicious food—it’s a tribute to the hard work and dedication of Bertha Jane Turnipseed (94). Her legacy has paved the way for countless individuals, creating opportunities that will continue to flourish at Ms. Jane’s Fine Dining.

Artists like Paige Pettibon and I are proud to honor Bertha Jane’s legacy through our murals, which serve as a bridge to the heritage and traditions she cherished. Paige, a Tacoma artist whose work dances between acrylics, oils, and fiber art, brings her Black, White, and Salish roots into each piece. From the Tacoma Art Museum to the Smithsonian, her art weaves stories of truth and environmental heritage, with her Plain to Sea jewelry cherished by collectors nationwide. Paige doesn’t just create art; she conjures magic.

As we launch our art in this special space, I am honored to share this journey with Paige, and together we amplify the restaurant’s values. Our work will forever be present, inspiring future artists and culinary artisans who will find solace in the legacy of Ms. Jane.

Please make a reservation and immerse yourself in the artistry of the seasonal menus curated by Executive Chef Josh Turnipseed, as well as the enduring legacy of Bertha Jane Turnipseed.

Very proud of this endeavor

©Ramon Shiloh/August 2024

"Invisible Problems Well Documented": An Art Book to Call to Action (Work In Progress)

 

"Invisible Problems Well Documented": An Art Book to Call to Action (Work In Progress)

"Invisible Problems Well Documented" is more than just an art book; it’s an evolving call for action in a world often overshadowed by pressing issues. This book uses art to illuminate problems that, while urgent, are not beyond our capacity to address. It serves as a reminder that although we may sometimes ignore these issues, we have the power to open our eyes, hearts, and minds to effect meaningful change.

The United States stands at a critical juncture, with today’s choices shaping future generations. This book captures key moments that define our era, illustrating times when we have chosen to observe rather than act, to comment rather than contribute. Yet, within these pages lies a message of empowerment: acknowledging that we are not powerless and that even small actions can bridge divides and heal wounds.

As an artist, I have opted to move away from the noise of social media, focusing instead on art as a more enduring medium of communication. The subjects in this book arise from conversations with friends, touching stories, and significant events shaping our collective experience. Each image reflects our shared humanity, highlighting struggles and celebrating the resilience that defines us.

Invisible Problems Well Documented extends the themes explored in Guidance Through an Illustrative Alphabet, capturing pivotal moments of our time through art. Invisible Problems Well Documented addresses visible but often ignored issues such as Missing and Murdered Indigenous Women and Girls (MMIWG), COVID-19, gun violence, U.S. Presidents, social media, homelessness, money, environmental neglect, tribal relations, hunger, extremist behaviors, dishonesty, and concerns about children. This avoidance of critical issues is a tradition embedded in American ideals. Despite many thoughtful changemakers striving for positive transformation, those who spoke most forcefully for truth and unity were frequently silenced due to corporate greed or resistance to efforts for racial, sexual, or gender inclusion.

In addition, IllumiNative, a Native women-led organization grounded in core Native values, has invited me to write an essay on “100 years of Native American U.S. Citizenship.” This essay connects my artist statement with the themes in Invisible Problems Well Documented, linking historical struggles for recognition and rights with contemporary issues.

Invisible Problems Well Documented is not merely a critique but an ongoing work in progress. It is a vision of potential, calling us to embrace compassion over indifference, action over apathy, and unity over division. The book encourages readers to look beyond the surface, recognizing that change starts with awareness and grows through collective effort.

Within these pages, you’ll find a mix of political insight, spiritual reflection, and nostalgic connection, all imbued with hope. The problems documented are not permanent; they are challenges awaiting solutions that lie within us. As an evolving project, this book serves as a reminder that while the road ahead may be difficult, it is also filled with opportunities for meaningful change. Through awareness, creativity, and compassion, we can turn today’s challenges into tomorrow’s triumphs.

My Alphabet Understanding with an Upcoming Essay on the way....

 

Shit's Getting Real in 2024-2025 People!!

From the quiet act of self-publishing a book to stepping onto the stage for a one-man show, I’ve come to understand that the alphabet is far more than just a set of letters. It’s a testament to the shifting tides of our collective consciousness, a mirror reflecting the struggles that define our humanity. In my upcoming essay, I’ll delve into how the alphabet became a tool to probe societal norms and confront the issues that challenge our very existence. This journey began in 1993, a year of profound loss, marked by my mother’s passing and a personal turning point that reshaped my life.

It was in 1995, with a heavy heart and a sense of urgency, that I illustrated and wrote the stories for each of the 26 letters, later self-publishing them (2006) in Guidance Through an Illustrative Alphabet. This book was more than just a creative endeavor; it was a call to action, a plea for us to remember the past so that we might forge a better future. As children, we learn the alphabet to build words and sentences. As adults, we must relearn it as a means to deepen our understanding of the world and our place within it.

Each letter, though unchanged, was paired with an illustration and a story or poem that grappled with the pressing issues of our time—environmental degradation, racial injustice, and global strife. These illustrations, created in 1995, were not just artistic expressions but warnings, predictions of the evolving challenges that would continue to shape our lives. The letters themselves may remain constant, but the conversations around them have only grown more urgent. Each page was a lesson, a guide for survival, urging us to confront the darkness in our history so that we might shine a light on a more just and compassionate future.

In a world that so often feels fractured and uncertain, we need stories like these—stories that remind us of our shared humanity, of the lessons we must carry forward to be good people. By understanding the past, by acknowledging the pain and the struggle, we arm ourselves with the wisdom needed to build a better tomorrow. But be warned—these lessons are not easy. They demand reflection, courage, and above all, a commitment to change. As you turn each page, remember that the journey toward a better future begins with the willingness to learn from the past.

More to come everyone.

Medium: Colored Pencil and Ink

©Ramon Shiloh 1995/2006/2024…

The Power of Nostalgia and the Legacy of Germination Mother Corn

By Ramon Shiloh

The motivation behind why we hold on to inanimate objects that keep us safe or give us hope is often rooted in nostalgia. These objects remind us of the innocence we once had and help us understand what we've lost over time. For example, a figurine I have traveled with since I was a teenager—a kachina—has become a symbol of my innocence and an anchor to my past. This kachina also represents my journey of progress as I travel, teaching my food knowledge and artistic expressions to Native youth across the country. The significance of this kachina in my life is tied to a rich history filled with both sadness and inspiration, which I would like to share with you.

My mother’s work in Native American politics was crucial for many Native American voices in the early 1980s in the Bay Area. She hosted three radio shows in Cupertino, CA, on KKUP (Public Radio) from 1981 until her death in 1992. As a minority woman who juggled high-tech responsibilities as a technical writer and fought divisions around Native American politics, her platform gave a voice to the voiceless of that time.

In the summer of 1986, my mother was asked to participate in documenting an uprising where authorities attempted to forcibly relocate 11,000 Diné (Navajo) people from Big Mountain, Arizona, around the time of Sundance on July 3-6. Despite the government's efforts, including harassment and legal maneuvers to access mineral deposits, the Diné, led by traditional women elders, successfully resisted. They knew that removal from their lands would mean the end of their culture and way of life. Relocation meant genocide. During Sundance, this resistance became a powerful sovereignty moment in history.

Three hundred militant Diné underscored their determination to stay at Big Mountain by marching on the proposed eviction day to a barbed-wire fence marking the “boundary” between the Navajo and Hopi tribes and cutting it. I was there to witness this event at the age of 16. It was a frightening time to see such resistance to land politics.

On our way to Big Mountain, my mother and I traveled to the City of Polacca, an unincorporated community in Navajo County, northeastern Arizona, home to the Hopi-Tewa community on the Hopi Reservation. We met woodcarver Augustine Komalestewa, a Hopi (Tewa) woman who lived at First Mesa, Polacca. My mother had heard about her carvings from an old woman she interviewed on one of her radio shows and decided to make this trip count by visiting Augustine before the Big Mountain encounter. My mother, who was a big supporter of Native art, took a liking to one of Augustine’s figurines and asked if any of her work was for sale. Most of her carvings were not, but she pulled one of the pieces she had just finished off the shelf and handed it to my mother. Augustine told her this was Germination Mother Corn, which was a rare treat to purchase a carving that came with a name since naming a figurine was considered forbidden until Hopi artists decided to share some of their Katsina carvings and spiritual traditions with the outside world. My mother and I enjoyed spending time with her, taking in the sights of First Mesa’s Walpi Village – Mo’ti kitsoqi (the first village).

Germination Mother Corn became our symbol of resilience and an expression of the nutritional values of the heart, mind, and spirit for our people. In my mother’s travels from 1986 through 1992, Germination Mother Corn accompanied her to over four hundred lectures, naming ceremonies, spiritual retreats, and Sundances. After my mother’s passing in 1992, I took it upon myself to keep the heart of Germination Mother Corn’s travels alive. She provides me with many lessons through our experiences together. She supports me through my food, art journey, and storytelling functions. All the meaningful travels and important engagements we did together took a pause when we heard her creator, Augustine Komalestewa, passed away in 2007. We wept and decided to honor Augustine’s memory as well in future travels.

Germination Mother Corn won the 2017 New Mexico-Arizona Book Awards in the Young Readers category and the 2018 Historical Society of New Mexico Pablita Velarde Award for an outstanding children’s publication related to New Mexico or Southwest borderlands history from the book “The Corn Whisperer,” illustrated by me, did an event with Esperanza Spalding, hung out with Crystal Wahpepah, partnered with Native Arts and Cultures Foundation and featured on PBS to name a few.

I’m honored to carry Corn Maiden with me. She humbles me, makes me reflect, and tells me what to do from time to time. Her journey was created from love, hardship, hope, and political restraints. After I pass on, who knows where she’ll call home. My hope is she’ll be safe, weaving stories as the elders would say.