In many Indigenous cultures, there was no written language. But that didn’t mean there was no history. It meant that history lived differently—through story, song, and visual traditions.
The meaning of Indigenous art lies in that role: it carried knowledge, memory, and identity across generations. Artists weren’t just creative—they were record-keepers, teachers, and community voices. In many places, they still are.
Art as Record
What looks like decoration to an outsider may carry generations of meaning. The shape of an eagle, the curve of a wave, the way red and black interlock in a crest—these aren’t stylistic choices. They are structure. They are memory.
Formline is a foundational design language used across many Northwest Coast Nations. It’s built from ovoids, U-forms, and S-forms—repeating shapes that create balance, motion, and meaning.
While some of these forms are shared, each Nation has its own visual system and way of speaking through shape.
Haida art builds complexity through flowing curves and dense composition.

Coast Salish design often relies more on symmetry, geometry, and bold line work.

These differences aren’t just visual. They reflect different histories, protocols, and ways of being.
Animals and beings depicted in these forms also carry meaning.
The Eagle often represents leadership and vision.
The Moon speaks to rhythm and balance.
The Whale symbolizes communication and family ties.
The Sasquatch, in many Coast Salish stories, marks a connection to land, memory, and the supernatural.
These motifs aren’t decorative. They’re declarative.
None of this is random. The artist carries the pattern because the pattern carries memory.
Their work doesn’t just express—it preserves. It protects identity.
Artists as Knowledge Keepers
In many Indigenous communities, art is not separate from life. It’s part of ceremony, governance, trade, and survival.
Artists hold deep responsibilities. They know which symbols belong to which families. They understand what can be shown, shared, or sold. This isn’t just about skill—it’s about stewardship.
This knowledge isn’t written down. It lives in relationship. It’s passed through apprenticeship, family ties, and trust.
Art as Continuity and Resistance
Colonization tried to erase Indigenous languages, spiritual practices, and governance systems.
But art remained.
It could be carried. It could be hidden in plain sight. It could speak quietly when other voices were silenced.
Today, Indigenous artists continue this lineage. Some work in traditional forms. Some use new media. Some do both. Their art holds personal stories—and collective ones.
It speaks to survival, continuity, and the right to define identity on their own terms.
What It Means to Support Indigenous Artists
Supporting Indigenous artists starts with recognition. These are not emerging voices waiting to be discovered. They are cultural leaders who already carry generations of knowledge, whether or not we’ve been taught to see it.
When you buy products featuring Indigenous art, make sure the artist is named, credited, and paid. Ensure they receive royalties. That’s the minimum.
Not sure where to start? Look for artist-owned shops, Indigenous-led companies, or galleries that publish artist names and stories.
A Final Note
We include Indigenous artwork because it matters—because it’s beautiful, because it carries meaning, because it speaks. We’re here to help make space for it. That means listening more than talking, and doing the work to present it with care.
You can explore some of that work here.