This Greenlandic term literally translates as ‘kayak dizziness’ - the disorientation experienced by some while paddling a kayak, especially in rough or unstable waters. An aligned word is ‘nangierneq’ which means to persevere or to endure - continuing through something difficult with determination and resilience.
I came across these terms at the Ilulissat History Museum whilst in residency in Greenland recently and they have inspired a current Lino-print work. The description of the sensation really resonated with me - literally and metaphorically - in terms of my last few years which have been quite tumultuous personally.
An information plaque in the Museum read: “When losing direction we feel helpless. The body reacts with (literally) getting cold feet. This sensation of cold, rising from below, can make you feel as if the qajaq (a Greenlandic word) is filling with water. The fear increases. The only way to break the effects of nangierneq (or ‘qajaq-ualuk’) is to keep paddling.”
Poet Mary Oliver often wrote about nature, transformation, resilience, and the beauty inherent in struggle. In ‘The Uses of Sorrow’ she wrote, ‘Someone I loved once gave me a box full of darkness. It took me years to understand that this, too, was a gift.” This, incidentally, has inspired another current work-in-process, a quite literal ‘gift’ which I’ll share via Instagram, soon. My recent, very personally and professionally extraordinarily enriching international residencies in Iceland and Greenland, served to remind me, on many levels, about perspective/s and I am processing and releasing much through this work.
I am concentrating on completing the bulk of my Masters in Visual Arts this trimester before heading to Finland and then Svalbard, Norway for May and June 2025, respectively. I am learning so much and thoroughly enjoying these experiences - and ‘focusing on the gift’ as opposed to the darkness, has helped.