Today we’d like to introduce you to Karen Goulet.
Hi Karen, so excited to have you with us today. What can you tell us about your story? Can you briefly walk us through your story – how you started and got to where you are today? You can include as little or as much detail as you’d like.
I am a multi-ethnic creative person whose work is influenced by people who inspire me and places that define me. I have often described my family as working-class intellectuals, who pay attention to a world they try to make better through what they do. We appreciate both perfect bouillabaisse and the versatility of Spam. We are teachers, scientists, artists, culinary explorers, and people who grow things. We both agree and differ in our approaches to life and love each other fiercely. My mother, a seamstress and knitter made everything her family wore in our early years. My father was an artist who painted, stitched beautiful embroidery pieces, wood furniture, and, when needed, carefully darned wool socks my mother knitted. Their talents were either passed on to them through generations or acquired through necessity and inspiration. I believe part of my work as an artist is to carry on the family traditions of making and making do.
I came into creative consciousness in the fifth grade. I had a wonderful teacher who used art for learning. I fell in love with poetry and learned to embroider for a geography assignment. (I chose this option because my father could teach me how.) The push to express and make in my voice was critical to the path I would follow. The emphasis my father would place on craft quality is now embedded in my creative practice. That school year set the stage for this story, I am now living as an artist.
We traveled a lot as a child, and there are many memories of hours on the road looking at the scenery or the stars while listening to country western music. As an adult, I have lived a nomadic life that has taken me to many new landscapes. I experienced how different and alike people can be. After my son started school, I decided to go to college and pursue career stability. Art and writing found me again there, and I have been on that journey ever since. I can’t say it has always been stable, but there has always been purpose and meaning for me in the work I choose to do.
I attended The Evergreen State College as an undergraduate, where an amazing world opened up for me. I made friendships with people from many walks of life and was mentored by two faculty, Joe Feddersen (Colville) and Gail Tremblay (Onondaga and Mi’kmaq). They opened doors intellectually and encouraged me to go on to graduate studies. (They saw things in me I didn’t.) I attended UW-Madison, where I earned an MFA in Sculpture, mentored by Truman Lowe Ho-Chunk and George Cramer Potawatomi. I earned an MEd from UM-Duluth. It has been over 25 years since I started this journey. Along the way, I stayed connected to family and learned Ojibwe’s cultural practices, including traditional arts. I will always make room for creating gifts for ceremonies and celebrations. When I think about it, creating is the most essential part of my existence.
I stepped into my professional life, not always working with fine arts but certainly with creative processes. I have spent most of my time working in Indigenous communities or with programming that serves Indigenous advancements. I have been an art and education faculty in tribal colleges for 14 years and the program director for the Miikanan Art Gallery at the Watermark Art Center since 2017. This work has been very important to me because my mother’s family was the first Ojibwe family to buy property in Bemidji. It was not an easy accomplishment. Many stories like hers have been waiting to be told in the larger history of the region. I spent my childhood summers in Bemidji nurturing the roots of my heritage, and it became my home for the first time in 2006. When I was offered the opportunity to initiate the first Indigenous Art Gallery in the region, I quickly accepted. By supporting and encouraging Ojibwe and other Indigenous artists through exhibition opportunities, mentoring, and other outreach, we are making a much-needed difference in the region’s creative landscape. I love curating exhibits and see this as one of my creative practices. The time needed for all this work has taken a significant amount of my creative energy. My artmaking has often been put on the side. But I haven’t ever stopped. I might not be the fastest canoe on the river, but I keep moving.
In the last three years, I have been fortunate to receive funding from MSAB, The Waterers, and Region 2 Arts Council, which has allowed me to focus more on my personal creative work. I was selected as a pilot artist for The Big River Continuum Project, which was established to connect the Headwaters and Delta through arts and science. Collaborating with Houma artist Monique Verdin, we brought our cultural perspectives, love, and concerns for the Misi-ziibi waterways to this project. The culmination of our 2 ½ year effort is two exhibitions- Aabajijiwan and Bimiwetigweyaa — Tcubúhatceh, currently on display at Watermark Art Center and the Weisman Art Museum, respectively. Along with being able to participate in this and other art exhibitions, I have also completed a poetry manuscript. I am now looking at how the work we have initiated through Big River Continuum can continue to have meaning in the future. I appreciate the support and encouragement of family, friends, and Watermark colleagues. I am grateful to still believe in the power and possibility of art.
Can you talk to us about the challenges and lessons you’ve learned along the way? Would you say it’s been easy or smooth in retrospect?
I appreciate the smooth road when on it. I think an interesting life could not possibly have an entirely smooth road. I have had tumultuous times of my own making and been pulled into unexpected circumstances that have shaped who I have become. Since the arrival of Europeans, Indigenous history has been complicated and is ongoing. We carry collective and generational traumas in our bones. They say we repeat history until we heal it. My creativity has often been a way I talk about the struggles and heal.
Things I Pray About:
(Just in case it works.)
Every heart I bumped into without apology, hasty and prolonged goodbyes, sweet blossoms that give me joy with extra love to the lilacs. Touches that knew me the first time and the last waters that love me until I heal every shade of green and evening skies painted in colors of desire winds that cut to the bone sending us to fires where we find ourselves close to love. Birth cries departure songs broken bodies stubborn love old stories empty hearts indecision indiscretions never mind whose.
A family is torn and tied by the ache and brilliance of those before we remember in laughter for them; we bring in memory songs. Ascensions, endurance remorse, and forgiveness are found in the love that reaches us despite ourselves.
Injustice, redemption, rage, tenderness, reciprocity, longing, forgiveness, resilience, and despair transformed everything I know and don’t remember about what is possible, as close as the spark of a lingering gaze, sometimes as far away as the comets streaking by us tonight.
Where to pray, how to pray, what to pray wherever we see ourselves forever, it is the molecules and stars that keep me hopeful, wondering about everything that matters in this world.
Thanks – so what else should our readers know about your work and what you’re currently focused on?
I am a multi-disciplinary artist who has stitched her way through life. I watched my parents make magic with needle and thread from a very young age. I would follow my mother’s example by being prolific in sewing most of what I wore and ‘making’ for the people I loved. When I went to college and became immersed in acquiring knowledge, I set aside what I considered the practical arts to experience as many art genres as my education could provide. Dedicating myself to exploring various art forms and expanding my conceptual thinking has brought me back full circle to the needle and thread. Whether making a star quilt or a conceptual piece of art, I find ways to make metaphors and tell stories through the stitches. There are always conversations with the ancestors when I sew. I have liberated myself from trying to achieve perfection and always stay on the edge of the precarious as I move between remembering and what is possible. I move between written and visual expression, and I believe that is an important aspect of who I am creative. I love assemblage processes. I am combining various materials and making large forms out of smaller parts. I am devoted to color, which is significant in my creative expression. Subtleness or absence of color is always strategic. I have taken my path creatively, which has not always found its way into gallery spaces or other predictable locations. I have learned from master artists various techniques that I use where they fit. Experimentation is at the core of my work as an artist. Refining my craft is ongoing. Seeking beauty and the unexpected are my creative commitments.
Can you talk to us a bit about the role of luck?
When I think of all my life experiences, I am grateful to be alive and grateful I am living a creative life. I am fortunate to know all the people I claim as friends and family. I have forgiven and forgotten most indignities and am still a pretty optimistic person. I still have a desire to learn and experience new things. I think working hard is an important part of good luck. I am willing to work on something as long as the story must be complete. Some artwork happens quickly and spontaneously, while other pieces can take years.
A River Heart:
I have not lived a perfect life, but I live an honest one most of the time in the spaces between love and reason, where precarious choices fall to their destiny. Staying honest, no matter how vulnerable it feels, knowing the truth can change the story to save itself from the burden of memories. Survival has its own rules. Destiny calculates when we must release promise and other drowning stones to land soundly in the transient definition of a river always moving to exist. I wait; nothing is asking this of me except my heart.
Contact Info:
- Instagram: gouletke
Image Credits
Nokomis Paiz Lori Forshee Donnay
