The Kaposia Times

This mural intertwines the past and present, highlighting the significance of the land now known as the Twin Cities within the Dakota. The couple is depicted reading a paper titled Kaposia Times, referring to the Dakota village of Kaposia, located in what is now the Union Depot of St. Paul. On either side of the couple, we see the land’s past and present, the Minnesota and Mississippi Rivers, which provided both life to the land and the development of the Twin Cities. We see a combination of traditional Dakota style flowers, buffalo, and horses, along with the St. Paul and Minneapolis skylines, acknowledging our cities’ enriched history. By further educating ourselves that we are on Dakota land and by understanding our land’s roots, we strive towards a brighter future. “As past and present history intermingle in this mural, we look forward to a future where Native presence continues to be celebrated and elevated.” – Marlena Myles

Q&A with Marlena Myles (05/01/2025):

• I refer to your Dakota heritage quite often in my project, I see a mixture of “Indigenous” and “Native” between your website and the Chroma Zone’s, I am wondering if you could educate me on if one is more appropriate than the other, or if you prefer one over the other?  

There’s not much deep thought in the interchange between Native or Indigenous in the written statement in this piece. In general, the US government uses terms like American Indian or Native American to classify people. Indigenous is less of a government term and is more open to interpretation. I always say we are all supposed to be Indigenous to this planet, but an Indigenous person is someone who sees the land as a relative, not as a resource. So anyplace that I travel and the people share that same mindset, I can relate as an Indigenous person. If you are writing about an Indigenous person who is enrolled as a tribal citizen (or claims descent) in the US, then it’s useful to use terms like Native American.

• ·In your mural, The Kaposia Times, did you depict specific flower species, and if so, which species? (I assume they are native to Minnesota and would love to note that in my analysis)

The flowers in The Kaposia Times mural aren’t meant to represent specific plant species. Instead, they’re Dakota floral designs: stylized patterns rooted in our cultural aesthetics rather than botanical accuracy (I do create ones that are more reflective of actual species when I’m creating educational materials). Dakota floral work has long been used in quillwork, beadwork, and textile art that often carry teachings, honor relationships, or represent medicines. In this mural, I used floral designs to center Dakota presence and cultural continuity rather than to depict identifiable native plants.

•  What kind of ‘legacy’ do you hope your art leaves behind, particularly for future generations of artists and non-artists alike? 

I don’t often think about legacy in the Western sense, because I’m focused on creating a present and future where Dakota people can thrive. In our language, we don’t have a word for “art”. Instead, we speak of sičúŋ, which refers to the inner power or spiritual force that each person is born with. It’s our unique essence, our star gift and it lingers on earth when we return to the stars. When we create, whether through visual art, storytelling, or the way we live, we’re expressing and sharing that sičúŋ. I hope that what I offer helps others connect to their own sičúŋ, to recognize that creating isn’t just about talent or training, but about honoring the power you carry and using it to care for your people, Grandmother Earth, and the future of our communities that includes all life.

• What are your pros and cons regarding Chroma Zone events and other creative placemaking projects? Is there anything you hope to be included in the processes in the future?

There aren’t many cons, especially from the perspective of a public artist. Creative placemaking projects like Chroma Zone offer powerful opportunities to amplify community voices that are often unseen or unheard. Through bold, visible art, we can bring beauty, healing, and cultural grounding to spaces that may have previously felt industrial or impersonal. The area around Chroma Zone is undergoing a major transition from a heavily industrial zone to a more residential neighborhood so the murals play an important role in shaping that transformation. They create a sense of belonging and connection, reminding people that even as spaces change, art can anchor us in shared humanity.

One thing I’d like to see more of in the future is deeper engagement with Indigenous place-based knowledge not just in themes or symbolism, but in the process itself. Including land-based stories, Dakota language, and relationships to the landscape could deepen the meaning of these works even more. Native artists carry more than just a style, we carry teachings and responsibilities, and those deserve space in how these projects are shaped.

• How do you think AR can be a potential avenue for street artists in the future? And if artists approach you looking to get involved in AR, what advice do you give them?

AR has huge potential for street artists, it can expand the storytelling within a piece and add multiple layers of meaning that aren’t always visible on the surface. It turns a mural or public artwork into an experience that invites people to look deeper, stay longer, and engage more thoughtfully. And because AR is “invisible” people can’t complain about it being disruptive to the physical space so there’s a lot of freedom in that aspect.

When artists ask me about getting into AR, I always encourage them to start with a question: What stories aren’t being seen or heard? Then, ask: How can I reveal the hidden layers embedded within this place, its history, memory, and spirit? AR is a powerful tool for revealing what’s been buried, overlooked, or erased.

And it doesn’t have to come from a Dakota perspective alone. If you study the development of the Twin Cities, or almost any urban area, you’ll find layers of untold stories: displacement, resistance, ecological change. Even the voice of Grandmother Earth is missing in so many narratives. AR can help bring those voices back into the light and help our fellow humans expand their minds.

• Do you have a particular routine when creating your murals or any other art? 

As Dakota people, we believe that the first step to gaining knowledge is through wóinina, which is a deep awareness that comes from silent observation. So when I begin creating a mural or any public artwork, I don’t start with a sketch or a rigid plan. I spend time simply being present with the space. I observe who lives there, what they see every day, what stories the land might hold. I let my mind and spirit stay open to whatever comes to me at that moment.

From wóinina, all other forms of thinking, feeling, and creating begin to unfold. It’s a practice of respect, of listening before speaking because the land, the people, the animals, the past/future and even the wind have something to say if you’re quiet enough to hear it.

• Are there any “easter eggs” in your The Kaposia Times mural that perhaps you included that others may not be aware of?

One detail that probably goes unnoticed is the year printed on the newspaper: 1851. That’s a direct reference to the 1851 treaties of Mendota and Traverse des Sioux, which opened up the vast majority of Minnesota to European settlement. Before those treaties, Dakota people still outnumbered settlers.

The title The Kaposia Times itself is also layered. Kaposia was a Dakota village located where downtown St. Paul now stands and it was home to my ancestors, including my great-grandfathers. So the mural isn’t just historical, it’s personal. It’s a way of grounding our presence in a place where our stories have long been buried or overlooked, and bringing that timeline into the public eye, on the walls, in plain sight.