Hello hello, I’m Nate Nate Nainers (they/she), welcome to my residency!
I’m a settler of Scottish and mixed European descent who grew up on Katzie and Kwantlen territory (Maple Ridge, BC), and currently live on Kwikwetlem territory (Port Coquitlam, BC).
I love telling stories, which means I am a wind bag. Sometimes I am feature wind bag on a stage. Sometimes I am a wind bag on the street. And sometimes I am such a wind bag I put my stories in a book and prance around town. So, what better way of spending my residency than being a wind bag for all of you lovely people with a little story through the month of July!
My storytelling is largely influenced by mythical logic, magical thinking, moments of zen, biblical narrative arcs, the art of clown, neurodivergent joy, the spirit of punk, and opening my heart in new ways.
My work is celebratory and humorous, and discusses neurodivergence, gender and sexuality, and spiritual diversity.
To add context to my residency, I grew up as a fundamentalist Christian in a Mennonite Brethren Church of which I was a devout member into my twenties. My school, Church, summer camp, Bible studies, and youth groups all preached rapture theology and that the Apocalypse was either imminent or already happening, and I believed them whole heartedly. You can take a guess at what they thought of my bisexuality.
Later in life I was diagnosed as Schizoaffective, which is a blend of Schizophrenia and Bi-Polar. It keeps life interesting, and I enjoy it very much.
The background images of my illustrations are from Secwepemc territory (70 Mile House, BC), at Green Lake and Beaver Lake. During hard times my dad takes me here to visit these lakes for meditation, prayer, and deep listening of ducks fucking. I took these photos during my residency.
Thanks for reading!
Big Love,
Nainers
“Trailer Angels” processes Nainers’ schizoaffective diagnosis, gender and sexuality, and fundamentalist background while they were a devout Mennonite.
“Trailer Angels” – 1/30
cw: Christian fundamentalism, religious trauma, psychosis/spiritual ambiguity
I am not in the belly of St. Peter’s Basilica, on the steeple of the Notre Dame, nor in the heart of the Sistine Chapel. There is no frail and humble monk on Mount Tabor guiding me in prayer. I am in a cigar-stained trailer for a guitar lesson with my worship leader. Mike is six years my senior, and his righteous moustache tells my parents I am in a Godly man’s hands. Hands that are wholly occupied with responsibility and prayer, and no, those things aren’t mutually exclusive.
“Trailer Angels” – 2/30
cw: Christian fundamentalism, psychosis/spiritual ambiguity
I am a fundamentalist. A young earther. A creationist. I believe everything in the Bible happened literally. Friends speak in tongues. Uncles exorcise demons. I meet prophets living in vans, and think I might take up prophecy, too, because I can feel the presence of God the Father and the impending Apocalypse where Christians will be blessed with torture for praying in public schools.
“Trailer Angels” – 3/30
cw: Christian fundamentalism, psychosis/spiritual ambiguity
The men’s breakfast prayer club is hiding in the home style restaurant. We must pray in secret because Satanists, or worse, gay Satanists can be anywhere. They’d be happy as a goat to shit in our food, and no one can prove where we got food poisoning from anymore. That’s the real reason the men’s group in Coquitlam shut down last week. That’s a whole day’s worth of prayers lost cause too many people have tattoos. Can’t point out the Satanists anymore. Then again, don’t you know tattoo artists secretly put Satanic spells in their work? You’d be shocked how many cross tattoos are actually upside down! Then the demons come. Not many God Fearing tattooists out there, so we pray for strength and purity in such trying diners.
“Trailer Angels” – 4/30
cw: Christian fundamentalism, psychosis/spiritual ambiguity
What makes teens stronger and purer than a barrage of Christian pop music to beat back the gates of Hell? Keep demons from assaulting your mind by singing for martyrdom against the gay agenda? Some of these secular songs can lead to sodomizing myself, and God forbid, I might enjoy it. I might even start watching Will and Grace or even Queer Eye. It happened to a kid at camp and now he’s living on Davie st with a limp wrist, so don’t stop rockin’ for the Blood of the Lamb!
“Trailer Angels” – 5/30
cw: Christian fundamentalism, psychosis/spiritual ambiguity
So here I am in Mike’s trailer for a guitar lesson. I awkwardly hold the guitar on my lap and don’t know what to say because Mike is smoking a joint now. He asked if I mind, so I asked if it was biblical, to which he said all things are permissible through Christ, to which I felt a little embarrassed because of course the worship leader knows his scripture. So I cough up some confidence and say I won’t partake, but don’t mind if he does.
Yet the moment he’s a little high I can actually talk to him because now his brain is funny the way my brain is funny, and it feels good to laugh. So many strange things people take so seriously that have nothing to do with God. It seems like Mike gets that, too. I feel like a sober stoner.
“Trailer Angels” – 6/30
cw: Christian fundamentalism, psychosis/spiritual ambiguity
I laugh and crack jokes all day whenever I can, but a camp leader with impeccable glasses tells me I’m not being real. Real people are very serious because the world is very serious. If I want to be a real Christian, I need to understand that the Anti-Christ wants to murder me, and worse, break my faith. He’s building an army of gay witches who will torture me while they laugh louder than my screams. They want to push me to denounce my faith so they can kill me right that second and send me to Hell. The Apocalypse could happen right now. Then we breathe fast and shallow.
“Trailer Angels” – 7/30
cw: Christian fundamentalism, psychosis/spiritual ambiguity
Mike doesn’t want to talk about the Anti-Christ. He doesn’t even want to talk about worship music. He just says God’s cool, then switches to my guitar and if I play for church or myself or both. Maybe it’s the waning lamp that makes his eyes feel warm, but the way he appreciates my guitar is tugging at me. Yet there is resistance to come out because I don’t know how much is too much. I’m not sure what Jesus says about over sharing, but I do hate my habit. It just seems to gush out of me if I’m not careful, so it’s best to just keep conversation biblical. Everyone appreciates a biblical conversation, I can be sure of that! But before I can say anything, he asks if I’ve always been musical.
“Trailer Angels” – 8/30
cw: Christian fundamentalism, psychosis/spiritual ambiguity
My mom rocks me back and forth on my piano teacher’s couch as I wait for my lesson. Someone is stumbling over Twinkle Twinkle Little Star, but it’s safe here. I just want to rest against my mom’s soft chest. I tell her I want my chest to be soft like hers. That I hope one day I’ll have soft breasts so I can hold my kids warm and tight like she does – comforting them against the uncertainty of being left behind. My breasts will shelter my children from the Antichrist and his demons. They will be blessed by God and will be beacons of faith and devotion to the Kingdom of Heaven. My children might ask if we all go up. If we all go up together. But I’ll just hold them to my soft chest and they will know we will never be separated.
“Trailer Angels” – 9/30
cw: Christian fundamentalism, psychosis/spiritual ambiguity
My dad insists that my mom is only lending me her guitar, so I take it to my room where no one can hear me. At first I don’t even want to hear me, but I am drawn to strum because when I play the strings a little lifts. It is miniscule, yet there is relief, though now water is seeping. Now it’s soaking. Now it rushes into the gaps so no matter how much lifts there is just as much heaviness.
“Trailer Angels” – 10/30
cw: Christian fundamentalism, psychosis/spiritual ambiguity
Maybe I am drowning in my room, and maybe that’s ok. Maybe it’s where I need to be – somewhere else. Beyond what is and isn’t our daily bread. Is and isn’t looking at boys. Is and isn’t the End Times encroaching. It’s as if I’m in the middle of my baptism, and I let go of the preacher to swim to the bottom of the lake, unconcerned if I can breathe under water or not. Just needing to never to be followed. Not abandoned or foresaken. Just simply somewhere else. Yet the further I go away into somewhere else, the stronger I feel those questions pressing on me.
So I strum through the weight, yet I have no names for what is filling me because it is too much to describe. It feels infinite the I’m told God is infinite. So it feels this could actually be my calling.
“Trailer Angels” – 11/30
cw: Christian fundamentalism, psychosis/spiritual ambiguity
I answer the calling by calling back for Jesus to set anchor in my heart. For the deep resonance of Christ to allow me to feel His presence. Allow me to feel loved. I don’t need to feel loved by anyone else. Christ’s love is all I need as the things of this world fade away. Christ’s love is drowning me, but only so I rise to be a real man of sacrifice. A real man of devotion. A real man of God.
“Trailer Angels” – 12/30
cw: Christian fundamentalism, psychosis/spiritual ambiguity
Mike adjusts his crotch as he crosses his legs to rest his guitar, and I tell myself not to think about his crotch, but I can’t stop staring. Mike notices but tells me graciously it’s inappropriate to stare like that at him there. I laugh anxiously, caught in the truth, but Mike just smiles paying it no mind, bringing our attention back to my guitar. That it’s a good guitar. That I’m bound to make memories with this guitar. That he can tell I don’t just play the instrument – I’m a musician.
“Trailer Angels” – 13/30
cw: Christian fundamentalism, psychosis/spiritual ambiguity
Mike takes another puff from his joint and says: “Play something, Nate. Don’t mind me. This is your time.”
I feel a little anxiety because technically it’s all God’s time, but I’ll believe Mike for a moment.
“Trailer Angels” – 14/30
cw: Christian fundamentalism, psychosis/spiritual ambiguity
My dad demands we’re eerily early for everything, but above all, we must be eerily early for Church. We must sit in the front row. We must love all the songs. We must love pastor Harry. We must love everyone. And don’t forget your non-Christian friends who we will teach to love Jesus the exact same way as us. It’s the Word of God. We might need holy harmony, but the Kingdom of Heaven needs Soldiers of Christ.
“Trailer Angels” – 15/30
cw: Christian fundamentalism, psychosis/spiritual ambiguity
Military cadet enrolment is the ideal, but for now I have football. My football coach is a pastor so of course we love him and of course he loves us and makes me Minister of Defence. Before every game I lead a prayer to Jesus that it is a safe game and we all have fun. The coach coughs, so I pray we kick their asses and the children grunt amen while my dad nods in solemn approval.
“Trailer Angels” – 16/30
cw: Christian fundamentalism, psychosis/spiritual ambiguity
I break my father’s heart by quitting football to play guitar. But the End Times are closer, so I need a little more somewhere else. More drowning in Jesus. More sacred suffocation. My father stops talking to me, but in this trailer, I feel there is space for me here, and that feels like a little could lift.
So I rush my fingers across my guitar, and the sound feels painful, raw, and sharp. The water rushes, too, into the gaps as a little lifts, and I don’t know who I’m drowning for.
Trailer Angels” – 17/30
cw: Christian fundamentalism, psychosis/spiritual ambiguity
The more Mike takes it in, the more I let go until I am playing a solo like a Jimi Hendrix mermaid in a vortex. Mike even records it and plays it back when I come up for air, and it sounds like a crooning turd from Elvis.
I lower my head in shame. It’s as if Mike has all the cards and I should fold. But I can see in his eyes he knows I was lifting something.
“Trailer Angels” – 18/30
cw: Christian fundamentalism, psychosis/spiritual ambiguity
At Jesus School I have a mischievous smile for my grade 4 teacher who used to be a bouncer. He is patiently coaching us on our chess game, but I just need a hug because I always need a hug, and oh, will I be raptured? Yes, Nate, you can have a hug, but no Nate, no one really knows about the rapture. So I snatch his cheque book from his pocket. I don’t care about the money. I know he’ll catch me, and that feels safer.
“Trailer Angels” – 19/30
cw: Christian fundamentalism, psychosis/spiritual ambiguity
Mike wants to know if I can jam. I’m caught off guard, but Mike just starts playing and asks me to jump in when I feel like it, and the moment I play a note to join in, we start going somewhere else. I’m unsure if I’m drowning, but this somewhere else feels safer. It feels like things are connecting. Too many things to keep track of, yet there is folding and molding, over and over until there is an opening in the ceiling of the trailer, which opens the sky, which opens the stars, which wash us in their soft light as things begin to lift.
“Trailer Angels” – 20/30
cw: Christian fundamentalism, psychosis/spiritual ambiguity
Of all my spiritual experiences, this is the first where my tears are not filling me with heaviness but shedding the weight out. I gasp for cool air as turgid breath shoots out. I have no words, but the spirit of Jesus is there, and the trailer is a white glow now, and Mike is in shining white robes smoking a cigar.
“Trailer Angels” – 21/30
cw: Christian fundamentalism, psychosis/spiritual ambiguity
Mike points out I’m in white robes too, and that this just happens sometimes. Sometimes it’s not the opening. Sometimes it’s the being witnessed. And what I see is beautiful exactly how it is and is becoming. And won’t you take a moment to witness yourself, not as what the Church demands of you, but as who God is calling you to be?
“Trailer Angels” – 22/30
cw: Christian fundamentalism, psychosis/spiritual ambiguity
Mike has no wings, but I hear a knock on the door, and it’s my mom. My mom tells me, I love you, and I love Mike, and Mike, can I have my son back? And Mike says, no, but you can have your daughter.
“Trailer Angels” – 23/30
cw: Christian fundamentalism, psychosis/spiritual ambiguity
My mom, she laughs because she knows. She always knew, and Mike knows because he saw what was underneath the lifting. He saw my chest with my mother’s breasts, holding my own children while they play the piano and I encourage all of them, hundreds of them, to play with what they know is beautiful.
“Trailer Angels” – 25/30
cw: Christian fundamentalism, psychosis/spiritual ambiguity
I tell my children they will always be in my heart because they are loved they are loved they are loved and they don’t need to be somewhere else. They can be right here.
I damn the Apocalypse. I damn the Anti-Christ. I damn Jesus. And somehow that makes the presence of God stronger and yes, it is light as well. And that lightness draws me closer to Mike and my mom.
“Trailer Angels” – 25/30
cw: Christian fundamentalism, psychosis/spiritual ambiguity
So we go running. The three of us, running over the water where the waves dance lighter with each step. I am joyful enough to say the word “triumphant” while my mom and Mike are beaming proud and true as the sky washes us in pink and white and blue.
“Trailer Angels” – 26/30
cw: Christian fundamentalism, psychosis/spiritual ambiguity
But as we’re on the water I hear God calling me, and he is a she, and she is a Gracious Daddy, and she is wearing a white leather rhinestone suit, and she is singing every harmonious note that ever was, and those notes are singing that it is good it is good, all
of creation is good.
“Trailer Angels” – 27/30
cw: Christian fundamentalism, psychosis/spiritual ambiguity
Gracious Daddy calls me up to be with her, so I go. I am so light now I just float up to heaven and see I am created in Gracious Daddy’s image, and I know this is where I want to spend my life because Heaven is under what is lifting and we are called to witness the relief as the weary are called to rest so we may witness the constant unfolding of creation, and it is good, and it is becoming good as well.
“Trailer Angels” – 28/30
cw: Christian fundamentalism, psychosis/spiritual ambiguity
Then Mike taps me on the shoulder, and I am back in the trailer, slapping and scraping my fingers across my guitar strings and coarsely screaming obscenities about big titty Jesus. I don’t know how long this has gone on for, but Mike is tapping my shoulder softly.
“Trailer Angels” – 29/30
cw: Christian fundamentalism, psychosis/spiritual ambiguity
I come to my senses and am mortified, but Mike sits back in his trailer’s pilot chair, lights his cigar and says, “tits or no tits, you’re golden.”
It takes a moment, but I feel it’s true because I can hear Creation singing that the Apocalypse has passed, and Creation’s song is eternal and my guitar is welcome.
“Trailer Angels” – 30/30
cw: Christian fundamentalism, psychosis/spiritual ambiguity
Then my mom knocks on the door and gives Mike twenty bucks.
Thank you for following along my residency, and thanks Hammock Residency for the opportunity to share my 30 part written and illustrated story. Feel free to follow @nate.nainers for future events and projects.
Big Love,
Nainers
Artist Quick Links
Nate Nate Nainers
Nate Nate Nainers (they/she) is a settler of Scottish and mixed European descent who grew up on Katzie and Kwantlen unceded territories (Maple Ridge, BC), and currently lives on Kwikwetlem unceded territory (Port Coquitlam, BC).
As a spoken word artist, they were awarded a Professional Development Grant by the Canada Council for the Arts for a twelve month mentorship under award-winning poet, Kevin Spenst, who teaches at SFU and VCC.
