Some years ago, shortly after I’d released my spoken word album Arctic Fever with Crown of Asteria, I was contacted by an intriguing individual living on Baffin Island called Nafre. He wanted me to know how much he’d enjoyed my poem Beluga and how authentic it felt. It was, and remains to be, one of the most generous and impactful compliments I’ve ever received about my poetry.
A great friendship was forged through lengthy conversations about black metal, the lure of the north, parenthood, literature, Inuit culture and everything in between – vast and explorative conversations, the likes of which are rare and to be cherished. Nafre mentored me on staying alive while I was going through some of the stormiest years of my life. We’ve celebrated each other’s achievements with joyous enthusiasm and glee and contributed to each other’s creative endeavours.
Our friendship is still strong, resilient to the passing of time, the circling of life and the thousands of miles between my home and his. We’ve sent each other a few packages over the years with gifts for each other and our families, and this intricately carved narwhal letter opener (which I thought was a hairpin) was in one of those packages.
Made by an Inuit carver called Jassie Qiyutaq, I’m incredibly fortunate to have it, as customs don’t take too kindly to importations of ivory. Qiyutaq lives in a hamlet called Qikiqtarjuaq. Located slightly north of the Arctic Circle and known as the iceberg capital of Nunavut, Qikiqtarjuaq has a lively arts scene and is on my list of places to visit in the Canadian Arctic.
I think it’s a walrus taking pride of place at the top and underneath a bowhead whale and, I think, a seal. Every time I touch it or use it (I still put it in my hair despite it being a letter opener), I’m like, ‘holy shit, this was part of an actual narwhal,’ and I’ll experience this surge of thankfulness for the Arctic Ocean’s most fascinating inhabitant and my friend far away in Nanuq’s kingdom.
A Wyrd Of Her Own 