Joane Cardinal-Schubert

Was it the Robin's egg I scrambled up the fence to view . . . sometimes there sometimes not . . . but then there . . . was it the snail I squeezed between my fingers at 5 as I squatted at the edge of the creek . . . or the succession of hawks, bears, muskrats, Canada geese . . . deer and other birds and animals that we intimately gained knowledge of in our family . . . or was it the setting sun on our lake with the deep blue black clouds arching over us while the bittern sounded gulong gulong . . . and the loon whom I was sure was a person, laughed its loony laugh . . . or was it the fact that the importance of these things were pointed out to me . . . was I emerging . . . emerging from what . . . emerging as a single human being . . . with specific interests . . . hmmmm emerging . . . ("Surface Tension," from the artist's personal documents)

– Joane Cardinal-Schubert