To help him stand up to the trials ahead, Larry Aiken begins a self-portrait and gets a kiss; Art Oomittuk and his mask: Kalib falls asleep

Three or four days ago, I received a Facebook message from Larry Aiken, a friend of mine from Barrow, who whaled with the Kunuk crew during the years that I followed them. He had come to Anchorage, where he expects to spend the next nine months in treatment for esophageal cancer. He had known for a few months that something was badly wrong and the doctors had done some tests - except for the one that needed to be done - an EDG endiscopy, a scoping of the esophagus from the throat to the stomach - but had not found a cancer.

Larry insisted that they send him to Anchorage, where he got the EDG and the fast growing tumor was found. Monday, he starts radiation therapy and on Tuesday, Chemo. 

He knows that he faces an ordeal, but his doctor has been encouraging, friends and relatives back home are raising money and praying for him and he has faith that he will beat it.

Larry is a talented artist. To help build his courage, he decided that he would paint a self-portrait of himself harpooning a bowhead whale. He would begin by sketching the scene out and then would paint it in.

Yesterday, from inside the room where he is staying at the Springhill Suites hotel located near the Alaska Native Medical Center, he sketched this scene. The man behind him with the shoulder gun is George Adams, the captain that Larry now whales with.

So we decided that I would take a picture of the sketch as it now it is and later of the painting that it will soon become.

But when I set about to take the picture, I found the situation vexing. The light in the room was not good. Plus, I wanted the dolls and other items of Native art in the showcase behind him to show up in the picture, but when I found the angle that would have Larry, his art and the dolls more or less lined up, I discovered that the lights on the ceiling cast a horribly distracting reflection upon the showcase window.

I did not immediately know how to deal with and so I did what I usually do in this kind of situation - I just started taking pictures that I knew were no good, hoping that the answer would come to me as I shot.

Instead, I saw the hands of a person enter into the scene from the right and I knew that the whole person would soon follow.

Another distracting element!

And then the whole person materialized. It was Martha Whiting from Kotzebue, a lady who I have known for decades and who also knows Larry and knows what he faces. Martha stepped into the picture, knelt down beside him and kissed him on the head.

And so there you have it - Larry Aiken, with the beginnings of his self-portrait. In the showcase window behind him hovers a symbol of his own culture - the culture that will give him strength, matched with Martha's spontaneous showing of the kind of love and support that will also help him get through this.

Martha gives Larry a hug. I should note that Martha is the Mayor of the Northwest Arctic Borough. 

For decades, Larry has been a volunteer with the Barrow Search and Rescue and in his work with them has been instrumental in saving many lives. Last winter, he did a rescue inland on the Slope in temperatures in the -70's.

In about April, although he did not yet know why, Larry found that he began to tire easily. The endurance that he had always had was not there. He went out on a couple of hunting trips from which he had to return early, with the help of others, because he grew too weak to continue.

Then, earlier this month, during the same time that I was in Kaktovik, he was at Barrow Rescue Base when word came in on the radio that a propane tank had exploded inside an aluminum boat that had gone out for the fall hunt. One other boat had been in sight and the occupants had seen flame blow out the windows and shoot up through the roof. The boat itself had risen an estimated four to five feet above the water, then had fallen back into the water.

Now, the boat was drifting, dead in the water. The crew could not be seen.

Although the rescuers have faced many things over the decades, this was a new situation and the news was greeted almost with disbelief. Larry did not feel that there was any time to waste and soon he was out on the water with two other volunteers and three EMT'S they had picked up from the fire station.

When they approached the boat, it was quiet and still. They could see no one. A sick feeling came upon them. Then a hand appeared at window, followed by a face. All the occupants had survived, with no life-threatening injuries - although bones were broken and skin was burned.

Along with the other rescuers, Larry did his part to supply the victims with medical care and get them back to shore and to the hospital.

During all that time, he did not feel weary. The exhaustion that had plagued him earlier had retreated.

Once it was all over and he was home, the adrenalin left. He laid down upon his bed and collapsed.

The next day, he flew to Anchorage, where his cancer was discovered.

Another person that Larry sent a Facebook message to is Othniel Oomittuk of Point Hope, better known as Art. As it happened, Art was in Anchorage working as an actor in the major feature film, "Everybody Loves Whales," about the Great Gray Whale Rescue of 1988.

Ever since receiving that message, Art has been giving Larry his full support - spending time with him, taking him shopping and out to dinner. Most importantly, he has been his friend.

As Larry visited with Martha, Art disappeared for a few minutes and then reappeared with this mask that he has been making.

The face is made of ugruk (bearded seal) skin and the hair comes from a sheepskin rug that once sat on the Amsterdam floor of his European girlfriend.

Larry and Martha study the mask. Art is known around the world for his fine art.

Art in his mask.

Afterward, I took Larry, Art and Lloyd Nageak, who is staying with Larry until his girlfriend can come down from Barrow, over to meet Marige, Jacob, Lavina, Kalib and Jobe. It was a good visit, but we must do it again when Jacob and Lavina will have a chance to cook and feed them properly.

After they left, Kalib fell asleep in his new chair. The chair is based on the movie, Cars, once his favorite. Kalib has now moved onto a new favorite, one about Vikings and dragons. One of the stars of that movie is a black dragon by the name of Toothless - who does indeed have fearsome teeth - and who, in personality, character, and movement, seems to be a recreation of my good black cat friend, Jim.

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The Kaktovik Healthy Communities Eskimo Dance - and the young artist who envisioned the mural

I have a big task directly in front of me that must be done in a short time and then I have to hop on another airplane, so I will very quickly go through the pictures from the Eskimo dance held on the final night of the Healthy Communities Summit in Kaktovik.

Anyway, after the meetings had ended and supper had been eaten, participants gathered in the community center, along with the Kaktovik drummers, singers and dancers.

When it comes time to dance, some people are not at all frightened and shy.

Always, there is grace and beauty in the dance.

Always.

Much to be seen.

There she is again - in the middle of everything.

Motion dance.

Sometimes, ravens will appear on the floor.

Not all the fun happens in the dance.

Couples dance.

There is something about dancing...

...that makes people smile.

Final dance.

Afterward, there was more gospel singing. Just before it began, someone told me that the mural on the wall behind her had been created by Flora Rexford. I asked Flora about it and she said it was the work of many people in the community. She sketched everything out but then was joined by many other villagers, young and older, in the painting. 

She would instruct them on where to place such colors until the mural was done.

So when she stepped up to the mic to sing, I knew that I had to get a photo of Flora with the whole mural behind her and the musicians.

It was a difficult picture to take, because when I found the angle that seemed to best show the mural, Flora's face was obscured by the mic. Other angles created other problems.

So I shot a bunch, and in the end was not happy with any of them. But here is this one, anyway.

Maybe I should have used this one instead. There are many things about it that I like better than the one I chose, but I don't like the placement of the mic. 

But there's the mural, and here's the artist whose mind it came out of.

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Four scenes from rolling coffee break: Michelle with Cali the calico kitty and the stone lion; Mormon graffiti car; fourwheeler, skateboarder

First, let me assure those interested that I still plan to post a few stories from my trip north - in fact, I spent more time working on doing so today than I could afford. I have a huge amount of material to digest and it will take some time. I might post a series from that trip Tuesday, but I might wait until Wednesday.

In the meantime... now that I am home here in Wasilla and Margie has gone back to Anchorage to babysit Jobe, I broke away from my computer at the usual time of 4:00 PM to venture out for my rolling coffee break, as All Things Considered played on NPR.

I saw many interesting things, but the most interesting was a lady painting a rock down on Sunrise Drive. A calico cat stood by to watch her work.

So I stopped, to see what was up. This is the lady, Michelle and the 13 year-old calico cat, Cali. As Michelle explained it to me, a fellow who lives here found this rock, dragged it home, looked at it from this side and saw the face of a lion. He asked Michelle if she would paint the lion's profile onto the stone and she agreed.

If one looks closely at the other side of the rock, currently bare, one can see an eagle.

So, after she finishes the lion, Michelle plans to paint an eagle portrait on the opposite side of the rock.

Michelle puts detail into the lion's eye.

Michelle steps back to take a look.

At the post office, I saw this car, heavy with inspirational graffiti. I wondered if the car belonged to a Mormon, as Gordon B. Hinckley was the President of the Church, considered a prophet by the faithful, from March of 1995 until his death on January 27, 2008.

Plus, many of the statements written on the car, including the Shakespeare quote, were ones I often heard my own mother speak as I grew up.

Mom would never have allowed anyone to graffiti up the car, though - no matter how inspirational the words.

As to the Shakespeare quote, it always sounded pretty righteous and noble, coming from Mom's lips as I grew up, so I was kind of surprised when one day I actually sat down, read Hamlet, and saw that in the story the words were spoken by one Polonius, a devious, self-serving, self-righteous, man of many bad works. Mom would not have approved of Polonius at all, had he appeared in her life as a real character.

Rearview of the inspirational, perhaps Mormon, car.

As I drove down Church Road, I passed this man traveling by four-wheeler.

As I headed up Shrock Road from the bridge that crosses the Little Susistna River, I saw this guy coming down the hill on his skateboard.

I used to travel by this method myself.

In my dreams, I sometimes still do.

PS: as you can see, the weather is incredible. Sunny and warm. - more like one would expect in California than Alaska. It was this way in Fairbanks and even in Nuiqsut, so far above the Arctic Circle.

I wonder how long it will last?

For however long, I should cast aside all responsibility and do nothing but play.

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Transitions - Chilly Barrow to hot Fairbanks to cool and wet Wasilla; Kalib and Jobe return to the blog

Among the things that I did on my last day in Barrow was to interview elders Wesley and Anna Aiken for Uiñiq. They grew up the old way and still express amazement that they can now wake up everyday in a warm house and with the flick of a switch turn on a light.

On April 8, they will celebrate 63 years of marriage and they have a host of children, grandchildren and great-grandchildren to celebrate with them. I can't say for certain, but I hope to be in Barrow at that time so that I can photograph the celebration.

This is from the night before, and you can see Wesley sitting right up front. I took this picture at what was a Slope-wide gathering to honor the bilingual teachers and others instrumental in setting up bilingual programs over the past five decades or so. The teachers gathered in every village on the North Slope and were joined together by teleconference and then all were honored with certificates and pins. Many were honored posthumously. 

Some, such as Anna Aiken, were not able to attend, but Wesley picked up her awards and brought them home with her. 

These are some of the people who have been working hard to keep the Iñupiaq language alive and vital in the face of TV, video and internet.

Van Edwardson called me on my cell phone to tell me that he had been tearing up the floorboards at his late grandfather's house to build anew when he found this seal-oil lamp beneath it. These are the instruments that people used not so long ago to both light and heat their extremely well-insulated sod iglus.

The lamp would contain seal oil and wicks.

Van notes that the house of his grandfather, Ned Nusunginya, had been there for all of his life and undoubtedly longer than that. "I'm 51," he said.

The lamp is made from soapstone, apparently from Canada and must have got to Barrow via trading and bartering. "This was used by my ancestors," he told me.

After he found the lamp, he took it to the Iñupiat Heritage Center, where it is being given museum care.

Some time ago, I can't remember precisely how long, the artist Vernon Rexford contacted me to ask for permission to use my photographs as the basis for some balleen scrimshaw etchings. I greatly appreciated the fact that he asked and told him to go ahead and just etch my name in there, somewhere. Not long after I returned this time, he was out on his four-wheeler when he spotted me, came over and invited me to come and meet him at the Heritage Center, where he has a full-length balleen hanging in the gallery, with his recreations and interpretations of my photographs from one end to the other.

It was an amazing thing for me to see, to think that what I did had inspired him and he had found a way to work my work into his own vision and create a new kind of life for it that I had never imagined.

He later took me to his work area in the Heritage Center and showed me this smaller piece, also based on my photographs, that he was still working on.

You can see that it is sitting atop a copy of one of my old Uiñiq magazines, with another one above that. The sketch is of his grandmother, the late Bertha Leavitt, and was drawn by Larry Aiken, son of Wesley and Anna, from a photograph that I took of her on the beach in July of 2006. There was a nice breeze blowing that day and it would sometimes catch and lift the hem of Bertha's parka and when it did, I would snap the shutter.

Now he was going to work off the sketch of my photo to etch the image of his grandmother, his Aaka, into his balleen.

I ate a lot of food in Barrow, so much so that when it came time to go, my jacket was feeling tight around the tummy. It hadn't felt that way when I had arrived. 

Due to the satellite problems that were putting the internet out of commission for many hours at a time, Alaska Airlines had been advising passengers to check in at least a couple of hours early because if they were offline, they would have to write tickets by hand.

So I went in two hours early, but the satellite was behaving, Alaska Airlines was online and I received my ticket in reasonable time. Now I needed something to do, so I walked the short distance to the Teriyaki House. I just wanted something light, so I ordered a bowl of soup - a huge bowl of soup, as it turned out.

You will remember Jessie Sanchez, the young Eskimo dancer and whaler who has become a Barrow Whaler football player. He is the kid who got hurt in the first Whaler game. Now the Whalers would soon board the same jet as I would to fly to Fairbanks to play their second game at Eielson Air Force Base. Jessie was feeling much better and he had gotten a Mohawk cut.

He was also getting a bite to eat at Teriyaki, along with his friend Lawrence Kaleak, who you saw dancing at Pepe's at the victory celebration.

After we ate, we all walked back toward Alaska Airlines. That's Jessie's girlfriend, who told me her name but I forgot. She would not be going to Eielson, but only to the Alaska Airlines terminal to say goodbye. For the past week straight, the weather in Barrow had been continually cold and windy, with periods of rain, mist and fog thrown into the mix.

Now, that we were all leaving, it was starting to improve.

Soon, we were all on the jet, football players, coaches and a whole bunch of other people including tourists, businessmen and women and people just heading out to visit someone or to return home.

That's Anthony Elavgak, sitting there thinking. What is it that Samuelu, Samoan, has in his hands in the row behind him? 

Why, it's a ukulele! He makes a nice sound with it. Before continuing on to Anchorage and then Wasilla, I got off the plane in Fairbanks and I did go to Eielson and photographed the game.

It was a very different game than the opener in Barrow. Whereas the temperature in Barrow had been in the 30s and the wind in the 30 mphs, it was hot in Fairbanks and Eielson - in the 80's. The game was tough and Barrow lost, big time, never got on the scoreboard.

But remember, they are a young team, with only four seniors. They never gave up. They fought to the end. And there was one young man, Adrian Panigeo, who really grabbed my heart because of the size of his heart. He was not the biggest man on the field - far from it - but pound for pound I think perhaps he was the toughest. Certainly, there was not one tougher, not on either team. Defense, offense - making tackles, carrying the ball, getting hit hard by bigger men, still to blast his way through for extra yards when it looked like he should have been stopped - that was Adrian Panigeo.

The announcer had a difficult time pronouncing his name, but he had plenty of opportunities to practice until he got it right, because Panigeo was key to so many plays.

Sadly, he was put out of the game before the first half ended and left the field in an ambulance, having taken a hard blow to the sternum and he got overheated.

Football is a new game to the Iñupiat, but to watch Panigeo play, you would think it had been in his genes forever. I haven't had time to edit and prepare my pictures of the game. Maybe I will put some in later, or maybe I will just wait and save them exclusively for Uiñiq.

We will see.

Early Sunday afternoon, I boarded the plane in Fairbanks. I didn't really want to. The high temperature in Fairbanks was forecast to be 85 degrees. I wanted to hang around, with nothing to do but whatever I wanted to do, and experience that 85 degrees. But I also wanted to see my family and I could not afford to stay in Fairbanks just to have fun, so I boarded the plane.

As it turned out, the temperature in Fairbanks hit 91 this day, a record both for the date and for this late in August.

The plane departed an hour-and-a-half late and there were a bunch of people on board with a tour group that was continuing on to Hawaii. They had to switch planes fast, so they asked all of us who were not going to Hawaii to stay in our seats until those who were had left the plane.

So all these folks you see standing and trying to get out were headed to Hawaii. Unless there's some cheaters in there, who were only pretending to go to Hawaii so that they could off the plane ahead of the rest of us.

After we landed, the voice on the intercom welcomed us to Ted Stevens International Airport. I had always wondered how it felt to Ted Stevens, each time he was on a plane and heard this same welcome.

Now, Alaska was preparing for his funeral. He would never hear that welcome again.

Anchorage had just set its own weather record - for the most consecutive days of rain, 29, I believe. It must be 31 now.

Margie was there to pick me up. As we exited the airport, we found ourselves traveling alongside this small tourist bus. We were in wild Alaska for certain.

Sunday night, Margie and I spent our one night in the same house together and then, early the next morning, I drove her into Anchorage so that she could spend the next four days babysitting Jobe.

Here's Jobe. My pocket camera battery died immediately after I took this picture.

The other day, I was looking at queries people use to get to this blog. One read, "Where is Kalib?!" 

Here he is, as captured in my iPhone.

An iPhone image of Margie, Muzzy, and Jobe. Muzzy recently had minor surgery that brought to an end all notions of perhaps breeding him. Now, he must not be allowed to lick himself in a certain place or to bite at stitches.

In the afternoon, I headed to Metro for the usual hot drink, then took the long way home. As I did, I was so overcome by sleepiness that I stopped at this secluded place, closed my eyes and feel alseep listening to All Things Considered.

When I sort of awoke a few minutes later, I shot this image with my iPhone.

I then drove home the even longer way and shot this image by iPhone, too. The battery was still dead in my pocket camera, that's why.

This was yesterday. I awoke this morning to the sound of more rain. Another weather record broken.

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I leave my family and cool and rainy weather behind and drop into sweltering, hot, Barrow where I find Dustinn Craig, teaching young people how to make movies

During my very brief stay at home, I took a number of pictures of my family that I intended to post so that I could let readers know a little bit about what we experienced in our short times together. Included among these were my son Rex with his special new friend, an adventurous young woman by the name of Ama from the San Francisco Bay area who has been out hiking, camping, and kayaking around Alaska.

Unfortunately, I forgot to transfer them into my laptop. This one, final, family image that I took was still in my pocket camera, which I put in my pocket before I left and so it came to Barrow with me.

As you can see, it is of Jobe, studying his dad as he shaves.

I often wonder how it is that Jacob ever learned to shave in the first place.

He sure as hell didn't learn it from me.

I haven't shaved in 92 years - well, maybe its been a little less than that, but not much.

Not long after I boarded the jet that would take me from Anchorage to Barrow, I heard someone call my name from a seat just a few rows behind me. I turned. It was Qaaiyan. For those of you who have read Gift of the Whale, Qaaiyan was the boy making coffee with a pick ax from freshwater ice that he had learned to find on the salty, frozen, sea. 

He was with Jamie and their new baby, Aagluaq. The "g" is supposed to have a dot over it but if there is a way to do that in this program, I do not know it.

For those of who have seen my latest Uiñiq magazine, Jamie is the girl taking the accidental dive, braids flying, off the blanket toss during the Point Hope Nalukatak.

As for Aagluaq, dotted "g," this is my first photograph.

Oh, wait - I think I also posted the picture of Jamie in the Point Lay series I put up on this blog in June of last year. Give me just a moment and I will go check for certain and I will find a link. Oh, heck - I am certain. She's there. I don't need to check, I just need to find the link.

So give me just a moment and I will go find it...

I found it, here it is.

Shortly after we departed Anchorage, the pilot spoke on the intercom to tell us what kind of weather conditions awaited us on our journey. He said it was 80 degrees in Fairbanks, which is not at all that unusual in the summer and it can significantly hotter than that, but when he said it was 70 degrees in Barrow, I wondered if I had heard him right.

It's not that this never happens in Barrow, but it doesn't happen that often. I know - some of you read "70 degrees" and laugh, but let me assure you that in Barrow, 70 degrees is hotter than it is anywhere else that I have ever been. 

When I arrived in Barrow, I found it simply sweltering. Roy Ahmaogak picked me up and brought me home. There, in his parent's living room, I found a a visitor, young Katilynn, desperately trying to cool herself in front of an electric fan. And if you look closely at the background, you will see a hand-fan in motion as well.

I should note that, as of today, it is much cooler: 43 degrees. It is raining and most people would probably consider it cold.

I hope it isn't raining during tomorrow's afternoon football game - the season opener. I plan to be there, taking pictures and I don't want to get my cameras all wet.

I was most happy that this trip to Barrow coincided with a visit by the Apache-Navajo filmmaker Dustinn Craig, the son of my late and special friend, Vincent Craig. I am also proud to call Dustinn my special friend. We were together at the moment of his dad's death and we share some things.

Dustinn was finishing up a two-week Media Camp where he had been teaching filmmaking to a group of young people from high school to college age who had gathered at Ilisagvik College from various Arctic Slope communities.

I dropped in a little more one hour before the students were to show their movies to the public. Most of the movies were finished and ready to be shown, but Gabe Tegoseak, the tall guy in the back, was still finishing up the editing on his - with Dustinn's help, to be certain that it would barely be ready to show.

Gabe's movie starred Gabe himself and it was a take off on a popular TV show about a guy who goes out into wild places to survive only off of what he can take from nature.

Speaking with a perfect Australian-Iñupiaq accent, Gabe leads viewers on a hilarious Iñupiaq survival adventure that begins in the local grocery store and progresses to the tundra, where he eats caribou poop that looks strangely like candy, drinks what appears to be a wildly-squirting fountain of yellow liquid created by his own kidneys and wrestles a dangerous creature from Iñupiaq lore that strangely looks and acts like a kitty cat with a sock on its head.

At least, there is a sock on its head for a few moments.

Damnit. I hate it when people give away the ending or the good parts of a movie and now I just did it myself.

Also pictured are student filmmakers Chris Ross, sitting next to Dustinn, and Joey Atkins. Chris created a dreamlike horror tribute inspired by the work of Alfred Hitchcock and Joey presented a soul-stealing wraith whose fearsomeness was accentuated by the special effects he worked into his film.

Both films were damned frightening, with some humor thrown in.

At points early in the process, these students had felt overwhelmed by the process they faced, but they got through that, had fun and created some good work which I hope is soon online.

Onscreen is Dominque Rose Nayukok of Atqasuk. She created a movie in which she used stills to tell the story of her home village. Unfortunately, her travel schedule had taken her back to Atqasuk earlier in the day, but we got to meet her onscreen.

Agnes Akokok and Lavisa Ahvakana of Wainwright both love to Eskimo dance and so they made Eskimo dance the subject of their movie. Each took their turns onscreen to narrate the action.

Each time that Lavisa appeared onscreen, offscreen she got to feeling a little shy and bashful. She did a good job, though - one that I would say has earned her the right to hold her head high.

As Gabe stands laughing in the background, the audience laughs at his survival film. This kid ought to be on TV performing his antics every week. I think he would be loved, far and wide.

Afterwards, Gabe asked Dustinn if he would help him record some of his own guitar playing and singing, so Dustinn did. April Phillip, who, among her other filmmaking activities played the main character/victim in Chris's Alfred Hitchcock tribute, helped out.

I shot this through the very dust-coated window of the class van as Dustinn drove April and I back into Barrow from Ilisagvik college, located at the old Naval Arctic Research Labratory three miles north of town. It was a beautiful, warm, night and many people were out on the beach, the Chukchi Sea of the Arctic Ocean behind them.

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