Have you ever seen Inuit art? I'm not talking about the cheap tourist stuff, you know the white bears with green fish in thier mouthes (not there is anything wrong with that. I like polar bears). I mean the expensive art.
I love Inuit art. I have loved it since I first saw it. The first real piece of art I ever brought was, you guessed it, Inuit art. There is something about it that tells a story. Even my Inukshuk
(the stone piles) tells a story, and its not just the craving, its the stone itself that tells a story. Primal is the wrong word. Its deep, its life, its perfection. You may not know what the story is, but you know that is a story.
This book was written by James Archibald Houston who is in part responible for bringing westerns (non-Inuit) to Inuit art. In truth, it starts a little slow, but like the art work, it becomes engrossing and consuming. You know how it is going to end, you have to, yet you hope, you wonder, and you admire the story told in such a loving way. A story that looks at first simplstic but becomes much deeper.
Like Inuit art.