If someone was to tell me back in the early 1990`s that I would end up traveling and eventually moving to Germany, I would of giggle and think they were making it all up. But...I did come over in 1998 with my theatre play on my life; "Transformation..." and I have never looked back. Even if I am turning 70 in September this year, 2022, I realize that I still have so much more to achieve in my art career or as a poet/writer. I am living proof to our native youth back home in Canada, to never give up on your dreams and they can become a reality. Hard work, dedication and self belief in your hopes and dreams for your own life...

                                                                                             My journey continues...

                                                                               " Healing is a journey, not a destination..."

                                                       We all have our own stories, one things remains, hearing our voice,

                                                       To speak one`s truth, hearing one`s words, in the end is our choice...

                                                       Our elders are our teachers, keepers of the wisdom or compassion,

                                                       Wise words guide us, know healing is a journey, not a destination...

                                                       Truth is truth, spirit is spirit, regret is regret, false denial is denial,

                                                       Water under the bridge of life, time past us by, fades after a while...

                                                       So listen and decide, what really is worth while, without hesitation,

                                                       Realize, except completely, healing is a journey, not a destination...

                                                                                                 Words of wisdom...❤

My learning journey started after I truned 25 years of age...My blood family comes from the Qu`Appelle Valley region in Southern Saskatchewan, Canada. Through elders, in The Royal Saskatchewan Museum is when I was shown the Treaty document that my great great grand father Pierre Poitras name is part of this historical document. I was given this hsitorical image showing that my great great grand father, Pierre Poitras(third from the right of Louis Riel/center row)was part of Louis Riel`s inner circle. I also found out that my grand father Zacharias Poitras was in masonry and help to the build the stone church in the village of Lebret, Saskatchewan(I also was in this trade for 20 years in my youth). In 1995, I met over 60 Poitras family members , at the Treaty 4 gathering by a cousin/since past, I was totally overwhelmed emotionally, I have family on reservations spread throughout the Qu`Appelle valley and region in Southern Saskatchewan.

My journey has been a long journey but a good journey and in 70`s I still wonder what else new I will find out...aho

                                                                                           "Moccasin telegraph line..."

                                                                 We joke about it but it is far from a joke, this is our reality,

                                                                 Faster than a telephone, crosses indian land, fast and free...

                                                                 Even across the great pond, there is no place where to hide,

                                                                 So be careful what you say or do, unwritten rules, we abide...

                                                                 Unspoken or said aloud, nothing is secret, ancient teachings,

                                                                 Whether the wolf`s cry, the beat of a drum, eagles screeching...

                                                                 Along the pow-wow trail, stories travel, even with the wind,

                                                                 Four legged, wing ones, generation after generation, do ring...

                                                                 The moccasin telegraph line used, since beginning of time,

                                                                 Fast communication, known as the moccasin telegraph line...

                                                                                                               It is so...

I am a work at home artist/poet/writer so I have time and I enjoy the role as the cook! It gives my wife a break because she is a hard and excellent worker as a special AIM teacher, teaching german to children foreigners who move to Germany. I enjoy very much cooking and this role...Plus Kathleen enjoys my food.

                                                                                              " Prayers of Gratiude..."

I pray and give thanks every day...that my heart and spirit has not become harden or broken...Grateful for all the love, knowledge shared and given to me by elders/healers and friends who cared and loved me, when I needed it the most...That I do my best to leave the past in the past...where it belongs...aho 

                                                                                                "Walking my own road..."

                                                       Since I can remember, whether I like it or not, memories that I hold,

                                                       Making decisions, how to survive, to get by, walking my own road...

                                                       Even a small child, I knew that this was not where I truly belonged,

                                                       Different from others, dark skin, knew that something was wrong...

                                                       So was my childhood, bullied by children or adults, seemed unfair,

                                                       I had to stand up for m yself, rage or fear, it seemed no one cared...

                                                       I knew when I was thirteen, age at fifteen, would leave on my own,

                                                       Grew up faster than I thought possible, in reality, now really alone...

                                                       Got lost on the streets of life, addiction and violence, a way of life,

                                                       But felt safer there, than in foster care, to survive, my own device...

                                                       Trust my greatest enemy, nothing to compare anything to, in reality,

                                                       Endless relationships, looked in all the wrong places, unable to see...

                                                       Lost in my secrets within my mind, lost in time, felt betrayed, angry,

                                                       Once realized my denial who I was, native culture, finally did I see...

                                                       That I had purpose, a rich history, healing, walking on my own road,

                                                       Feel pride or pure humility, of old traditional teachings, I was told...

                                                       When deciding, what is right for you, must realize the road is lonely,

                                                       Between you and the creator, see truth is truth, to discover destiny...

                                                       Walking my own road, had it`s rewards, even failures, lessons learnt,

                                                       In the end and realize, it was worth it, in decisions made and earnt...

                                                       Finally realize, I was never really alone, gives a warm feeling inside,

                                                       Walked my own road of life, healed with in, no longer have to hide...

                                                       So believe in your dreams, dreams come true, I am now living mine,

                                                       Walk that road of life, to realize, dreams come true, seems sublime...

                                                                                    Walking my own road of life...❤

                                                                                            "What love means to me..."

                                                                            Love comes in many forms and levels, it is so,

                                                                            My love is, with no strings attached, so you know...

                                                                            What love means to me, first comes friendship,

                                                                            Open mind, heart, kindness, makes a relationship...

                                                                            I dislike, control, ownership, jealousy and insecurity,

                                                                            To allow total freedom of thought, with sincerity...

                                                                            To allow each to make mistakes, no one is perfect,

                                                                            Sometimes to say nothing, only hold and protect...

                                                                            What love means to me now is, except and return,

                                                                            Of over welleming joy of love, that we have earned...

                                                                            To say thankyou, and show appreciation, each day,

                                                                            To remember, to hold dear, the gentle words, you say...

                                                                            Forever grateful and humbled, we shared this time,

                                                                            No matter, how long, deep within my heart, intertwine...

                                                                            With no regret, only memories, time we had together,

                                                                            Tears of laughter and pain, remain, in my soul forever...

                                                                            To realize, love is so very fragile, it can break like glass,

                                                                            Love won, love lost, but only for a moment, does it last...

                                                                            I started alone, maybe end it alone, but this I know,

                                                                            You taught me, what love means to me, and to grow...

                                                                                              What love means to me...❤

                                                                                  Can you see, living with dyslexia ?

                                                                                              Dyslexic people can...

Dyslexia has seemed like a taboo subject in the educational, health/medical system for decades. Unless one is dyslexic then they have a hard time understanding it, what it truly is. Many within the educational and mental health systems, misdiagnose the child`s true learning issues are. They range from emotional, psychological, social interaction with others, child abuse such as sexual, mental and physical abuse trauma, genealogical/cultural genocide. A trained teacher or therapist who can go to many levels of human behaviour is key. It effects far more children/adults than most understand. Many famous people are dyslexic such as, John Lennon, Richard Branson, Leonardo de Vinci, Walt Disney, Albert Einstein, Keira Knightley, Keanu Reeves just to name a few. Dyslexia is so misunderstood through lack of education what dyslexia is. When most dyslexic people are super intelligent, artistic on many levels. My wife, Kathleen Poitras is a registered Dyslexic Teacher and her business card was my inspiration for my design. I had to use my dyslexic mind to paint this design, it explains what I see on a sheet of paper/form, if my mind gets triggered and dyslexic mind gets confuses...I had only needed time and to learn how to adapt, I understand much more than some have gave me credit for...When I was a small child in school, every year the school would have a psychologist come in and give me tests, to evaluate me(to send to a residential school). But for me was like a game, I would tell them what the ink spots meant to me, answer thier questions. Every time they would go back to the school principal/teachers and say; "There is nothing wrong with this child, just give him a chance to learn"...Understanding that dyslexia affects everyone in different forms and levels, so no two dyslexic people are affected the same way. If you are not dyslexic then you might not ever totally understand it, even with a university diploma, theory is one thing, reality is something else...Depending on the severity on a child, if time taken to explain or teach, shown compassion most dyslexic children can learn, it was this for me...This is dyslexia !

                                                              Why I wrote my book; " Believe in Your Dreams..."

I have been speaking for decades about having dyslexia and how it was very difficult for me as a child into my adulthood. That so many people thought of me being, lazy, stupid even retarded, I kid you not! So not until I finally came to terms what it is, did I except my self worth. So throughout my art career as a storyteller, I have spoken about dyslexia in class rooms when drawing on the black broad, explaining I was dyslexic. Because children saw I was dyslexic they trusted me because they knew I understood. Every time children would say they were also dyslexic, with out fear, the teachers were amazed not realizing this(even some of the teachers were dyslexic also)...Once understanding my dyslexia, it was a amazing healing moment for me personally and hopefully I can help change other lives as well with this knowledge...One does not have to live in shame and see that their dyslexia is a special gift, only to be discovered and to follow your dreams, what your true talents are and be proud to inspire others...

                                                                                          “Living with dyslexia…”

                                                                  All I say to you is, give me a chance, time to learn,

                                                                  I am only dyslexic, so please, respect I will earn…

                                                                  I am not lazy, stupid or retarded, I am very intelligent,

                                                                  Just dyslexic, with learning problems, understatement…

                                                                  It may take me longer, but I always process everything,

                                                                  To make sense, show you I do understand, is not a sin…

                                                                  I just live with being dyslexic, in a state of confusion,

                                                                  But always figure it out, in the end, it is my intention…

                                                                  Education is the key, communication, for you and me,

                                                                  Living with dyslexia, all it is, understanding, my reality…

                                                                                            Living with dyslexia...

I wrote this poem seen through dyslexic eyes and in my deepest thoughts, because I am dyslexic...How it feels to be a small child always being misunderstood. When all I wanted to do was learn. Why I have dedicated my life for thirty years trying to be positive as a children`s advocate. On behave of those living in fear and silence in the unknown world of dyslexia...

A speical commission I did for my friend, later to become my wife Kathleen Poitras, for her work place, I called "The tree of life...". Kathleen is a registered dyslexic teacher. I painted four ancient traditional spiritual levels; First Nation-Turtle Island, Germanic/central European, Eastern Asian and nature/Mother Earth...

                                                                                                              RIP...

Sadly, I just found out that metis writer Harold Johnson past away, Feb. 2022. A number of years ago I was contacted and asked if I would like to do a art cover for a new book of his, I agreed. So out of respect to Harold , his family, I share my condolences...aho

                                                                        I dedicate this to all native children who were

                                                                        put into child welfare services in Canada...

                                                                             "The forgotten children in foster care..."

                                                                   For three decades I have dedicated my work to us,

                                                                   The forgotten children in foster care, who do we trust...

                                                                   The children who parents put in residential school,

                                                                   Forced into child welfare unwanted, greed their tool...

                                                                   Never mentioned, us non-status children, as like me,

                                                                   The numbers are in the thousands, why can`t they see…

                                                                   I am one of many, children lost generations, are forever,

                                                                   Family unit destroyed, mine was, is my daily reminder...

                                                                   We children in foster care, are last to be recognized,

                                                                   In the thousands, even today, seen through blind eyes...

                                                                   Taken from parents who loved us, we were all wanted,

                                                                   Instead we mourn our loss, our memories so haunted...

                                                                   We were used as a commodity, foster care a business,

                                                                   Society turned a blind eye, never were of no interest...

                                                                   I miss the only chance, to be part of a normal family,

                                                                   Only within my mind, my empty heart, is all I can see...

                                                                  Canada has to remember, the forgotten children in care,

                                                                  History will record these dark times, need to be aware...

                                                                          We are the forgotten children in foster care... 

Throughout my 30 year art career, children have been the foundation-"Believe in your dreams". I designed this logo and called it "The Welfare Scoop-the lost generations", I have started to document my own personal story of being in the foster care/welfare system. How it effected my childhood and adulthood...I am one of those non-status native children in Canada, that were forced into the welfare system system in Canada. For me, this design speaks for generations of us native children across Canada taken from our parents, families, our communities. Reconciliation is more than just a word, it takes action and real change...

                                                                                                        All My Relations...

In respect of native veterans and those who died, native veterans are celebrated in every pow-wow throughout native territories! I lost family in the great wars, so on Nov. 8th National Native Veterans Day, I show my respect as on Nov. 11th, Canada`s National Veterans Day...aho

                                                                                                  Less we forget...aho

I started my professional art career at the age of 40 and after three decades and turning 70 this year 2022. My foundation of my career has always been; "Believe in your dreams..." and children based. I just wrote this poem for all of the children, children do understand so much more than adults think they do. Children understand anger, fear, insecurity, they see adults dealing with alcohol or drug addiction, family violence. They feel alone when not being respected and left on their own, not knowing who to talk to or who to trust. Children know...when not loved or cared for, children are very intelligent human beings...Adults always under estimate children whether they can handle or deal with life situations...There are many old souls in young bodies...

                                                                                                  " What ever happened..."

                                                                                 What ever happened, to human respect,

                                                                                 Kindness, loyality, freedom, we must protect...

                                                                                 What ever happened, respect of a elder,

                                                                                 For their wisdom and love, lost forever...

                                                                                 What ever happened, to honesty of word,

                                                                                 Being positive and open, looking forward...

                                                                                 What ever happened, human communication,

                                                                                 Internet, cyber space, too much, no interaction...

                                                                                 What ever happened, to a true friendship,

                                                                                 Commitment, being there, so many forget...

                                                                                 What ever happened, actual spiritual belief,

                                                                                 Greed, war, power, ego, only gives us grief...

                                                                                 What ever happened, to mutual respect,

                                                                                 So many of us, have to live with regret...

                                                                                 What ever happened, to our self worth,

                                                                                 To all living things, here on Mother Earth...

                                                                                 What ever happened, a simple childhood,

                                                                                 Where dreams, hopes, were understood...

                                                                                 What ever happened, to deep pure love,

                                                                                 Of another, to the higher power above...

                                                                                                 What ever happened...

The plains natives were known as the buffalo people, nomads following the cycle of the migration of the buffalo. So the spirit is deep inside and I have always been a free spirit and followed my gypsy spirit, I am exactly where I am suppose to be...

                                                                                       Anishinaabe living in Germany...

Here in Germany and Europe I walk with pride, of who I am, of my native culture. I am allowed to be happy and just be myself and not in a non-judgemental society because of my anishinaabe blood line. Here in Germany throughout Europe, the native culture is admired because of our connection with the creator and mother earth. I have married a wonderful, kind, respectful and excellent loyal partner/best friend, Kathleen Poitras...So yes, I very grateful and extremely happy living here...

                                                                                                        "Not until you..."

                                                                  I am sure I am not the first to say it out loud, but it`s true,

                                                                  Wondered if I`d ever meet someone sweet, not until you...

                                                                  You are kind, respectful, your word is solid, loyal to a tee,

                                                                  Generous, honest and a wild sense of humor, just like me...

                                                                  Easy on the eyes, romantic at heart, sense of commitment,

                                                                  Trust worthy, never lie or greedy, have no discontentment...

                                                                  Not until you, I ever believed, I would ever be so fortunate,

                                                                  To have such a beautiful person in my life, with no regrets...

                                                                  Dreams do come true, even in love, now I know, it is true,

                                                                  No longer do I doubt or fear, now a believer, not until you...

                                                                                                      Mrs. Poitras ❤...

2023 is a new journey for my wife Kathleen and I, we move into our new home/city, our future looks bright and full of love and happiness, to make many new memories together...

Throughout my art career as a traditional anishinaabe storyteller, I have talked about our mother earth. How for decades she has been telling us, there is a huge problem happening. Weather wise, killer storms, floods, droughts, food shortages, water shortages etc...Mankind`s greed has been around since the industrial revolution era. The Inuit people warned of global warming decades ago and societies did not want to listen or wanted to pay attention. Well it is here...Even some are in total denial and say it is in the future, no the world climate crisis has started, we are in it. Children would always ask me what my thoughts were, all I would say was" It will take a world wide wake up call before mankind wakes up! Interesting that young children see and feel it but adults/societies don`t want to admit it. I have never thought myself as a radical, far this or that. I am a storyteller. depending on the topic I was addressing, I have made a lot of people nervous...Truths hurts, but the stories need to be told and real change needs to happen...All My Relations...

Often in my morning prayers, I pray for Mother Earth and those of us who walk a pond her...I look at it through spiritual eyes, that she is our mother and gives us the greatest gift of all...life...aho

                                                                                                    Turtle Island...

This is a story of "Turtle Island"...We were moving to the new home and cleaning up the back yard. I notice something sticking out of the grass and dirt and here it was this rusted cast iron turtle. I dug him out of the ground and decided to safe him and bring him with us. I painted him and affectionately called him "Turtle Island", he was my reminder of where I come from plus never to get lost or never forgot my anishinaabe culture. Turtle Island has moved with us into our new home...I love living in Germany and seen all I have seen and done in my career. I am not the same man who came here back in 1998, I have grown on many levels. I appreciate everything in my life, even the smallest things or moments. 

Europe opened up my eyes, my mind to be open to change, understanding and to respect different cultures, languages, nothing is the same what I grew up to in Canada, nothing. So it really was up to me to adapt, change within, learn cultural ways, such a languages, foods, all...

                   So this is why I am sharing my "Turtle Island" story with you all, he is my connection to my cultural past...aho

                                                                                                  All My Relations...

Soon after I came to Germany/Europe in 1998, I started to travel past the artic circle and walk with the Sami people of Northern Scandinavian countries of Finland/Lapland, Sweden and Norway/met Russian Sami. I felt spiritually at home, the people, the land and you can see my happiness in this photo, taken while I was working in Northern Norway...

                                                                                                         Sami flag...

                                                                                                  " Patchouli Blues..."

                                                        Since the hippy dippy days, been experiencing the patchouli blues,

                                                        Was my drug of choice, so to speak, to awaken sexual senses too...

                                                        It brought calmness, awareness, a sense of balance, kindred spirits,

                                                        Women liked it on me, even some who hated the smell, no regrets...

                                                        In my rock and roll days, entered a crowded party, all people knew,

                                                        Patchouli scent flowed throughout the crowd, Jim`s here, it is true...

                                                        After a hot shower, feeling cleansed, put a dash here a dash there,

                                                        Only because it felt right, no other reason, aroma filtered in the air...

                                                        I only sing this melody in the corners of my mind, a scent of choice,

                                                        It`s me, without a doubt, no remorse, no hint of regret, only rejoice...

                                                        So if I have to get any form of blues, only want my patchouli blues,

                                                        I can handle it, without any problems, imagination flows freely too...

                                                                                          I got the patchouli blues...❤