Dream Wars and Myths: Native Storytelling with Andrea Grant

In an exclusive interview with CanadianSME Small Business Magazine, Andrea Grant, writer and multimedia artist of Coast Salish Native ancestry, shares how her work brings ancestral stories into modern life while exploring identity, resilience, and cultural preservation.

Andrea Grant is a writer and multimedia artist of mixed-blood Coast Salish Native ancestry whose work blends mythology, poetry, photography, film, spoken word, and live performance. Her publications include The Pin-Up Poet (2009), Andrea Grant’s Minx: Dream War (2011), and Modern Natives: An Illustrated Collection of Reimagined Coast Salish Myths (2025). Her award-winning films, Modern Native (2020) and Night Swimming (2024), explore Indigenous storytelling, identity, resilience, and the relationship between women and nature.

Grant recently completed her third spoken word film, The Bones of Our Never-Cestors (2026), addressing the legacy of Residential Schools and Indigenous cultural resilience. She is currently developing a poetry collection, No Return: Too Narrow for My Shoulder Blades, and new projects in her Minx graphic novel series. A Creative Writing graduate of Kwantlen University College, Grant has received several First Nations Storyteller grants from the Canada Council for the Arts, alongside support from the B.C. Arts Council and the First Peoples’ Cultural Council.

You’ve said story was the first language that ever felt true to you, and that one medium was never enough to hold everything you needed to say. What first drew you to storytelling, and why did you ultimately choose to work across writing, film, photography, illustration, and graphic novels rather than just one form?

Why many mediums, not one

My work stems from a lifelong fascination with mythology and a desire to create layered experiences that can be felt on many levels. Storytelling became the language through which I could explore identity, memory, and imagination, and I felt that no single medium could contain everything I wanted to express.

Each form reveals something different. Writing captures interior thought, photography distills emotion into a single frame, illustration gives shape to worlds that don’t yet exist, graphic novels weave myth and narrative together, and film unites voice, movement, music, and landscape into an immersive experience. I don’t see them as separate disciplines—they’re all part of the same creative practice.

That approach also reflects Indigenous storytelling traditions, which have never been confined to one form. Stories have always been spoken, sung, carved, woven, painted, and performed. Moving between mediums feels less like experimentation and more like a continuation of that tradition.

I never begin with the medium—I begin with the story. It decides how it wants to be experienced.

Coast Salish traditions often treat stories as truth rather than mere fiction, and you’ve spoken about narrative as emotional, spiritual, and mythic truth. How do you explain that difference to readers, and how does it shape the way you approach reimagining traditional Coast Salish stories in contemporary settings?

Story as truth, not fiction

In Coast Salish tradition, stories aren’t measured by whether they literally happened—they’re valued because they carry truth. They preserve teachings, relationships, history, and ways of understanding the world. Myth isn’t the opposite of truth; it’s another way of expressing it.

When I reimagine traditional Coast Salish stories, I start from a place of listening. The core values and spirit of each story remain intact. What can shift is the setting, the imagery, and the way the story is experienced. Themes like transformation, responsibility, belonging, and our relationship with the natural world are timeless, whether the story unfolds in an ancient village or a modern city.

For me, reimagining isn’t about changing the stories—it’s about revealing their continuity. My responsibility is to honor their spirit while creating space for new generations to connect with them. If readers come away seeing mythology not as fantasy, but as a living tradition that still speaks to who we are, then the stories have done what they were always meant to do.

“I never begin with the medium—I begin with the story.”

Your new book, MODERN NATIVES, brings ancestral beings into present-day cities—spirits walking New York streets, trickster gods in Tacoma, wolves prowling beneath Manhattan. What inspired this collection, and how did collaboration with Coast Salish artist Qwalsius‑Shaun Peterson and the guidance of your elders shape what made it onto the page?

Modern Natives and community guidance

MODERN NATIVES stems from the belief that if these stories carry timeless truths, they belong as much to the present as they do to the past. I imagined a world where ancestral beings still walk among us—where tricksters move through city streets, spirits inhabit familiar places, and wolves appear beneath Manhattan skylines. The setting changes, but the stories endure.

This project was shaped by community. I drew upon the knowledge and guidance of Coast Salish elders, whose trust and encouragement allowed me to reimagine these stories while remaining true to their cultural integrity. Their wisdom ensured that the spirit and core teachings of each story remained intact.

Qwalsius-Shaun Peterson’s illustrations became an integral part of the storytelling, bringing Coast Salish visual traditions into contemporary settings while honoring their cultural integrity. My vision was never to place these stories in the past, but to reveal what has always been true: they have always lived alongside us.

That same vision extends into my MINX graphic novels, where Coast Salish mythology intersects with the mythologies of other cultures in supernatural worlds that blur the boundaries between dreams, memory, and reality. For me, mythology is a universal language that transcends cultures and generations, revealing the timeless patterns that connect us all.

In your graphic novel MINX: DREAM WAR, a Native heroine moves between Dreamtime and waking life, surrounded by white spirit wolves. How did Minx first arrive to you as a character, and why was it important to center a Native female protagonist in this space where mythology, prophecy, and modern life collide?

Minx: a Native heroine

Minx first came to me as a mysterious young Native woman moving between the worlds of the Pacific Northwest and New York City, guided and protected by white spirit wolves. She emerged from my fascination with dreams, prophecy, and the idea that the unseen world is never separate from everyday life. I wanted to create a heroine who could move seamlessly between the supernatural and modern realms.

Centering a Native female protagonist was essential because I wanted someone like her at the heart of a mythic, cinematic story—not as a side character, a symbol, or a historical figure, but as the force driving the narrative. Minx embodies ancestral memory, intuition, vulnerability, and resilience.

In MINX: DREAM WAR, mythology and modern life collide because, for me, stories exist at the intersection of memory, myth, dreams, and reality, where the past continually shapes the present. Through Minx, I explore identity, destiny, and survival while asking what happens when ancient knowledge continues to guide us through the complexities of the contemporary world.

Your spoken word film The Bones of Our Never‑Cestors confronts the trauma of Residential Schools through a reimagined Hansel and Gretel, and you’ve coined “Never‑Cestors” to name the children who were denied futures. When you look across MODERN NATIVES, MINX, and your films, what do you hope Indigenous and non‑Indigenous audiences carry with them—and what advice would you give other artists who want to draw from their own heritage with respect, courage, and care?

Residential Schools and advice to artists

The Bones of Our Never-Cestors is a spoken word film that confronts the intergenerational trauma of the residential school system through a haunting retelling of the Hansel and Gretel fairytale—a blend of myth, horror, and reclamation. Across MODERN NATIVES, MINX, and this film, I’m interested in revealing the stories that continue to shape us. Some celebrate resilience and imagination; others confront difficult histories, but all remind us that the past is never separate from the present.

For Indigenous audiences, I hope these works affirm that our stories are living, evolving, and belong in every artistic space. For non-Indigenous audiences, I hope they inspire curiosity, empathy, and a deeper understanding that Native stories are contemporary, dynamic, and profoundly relevant.

My advice to artists is to embrace the long arc of creative work, honor the people who entrust you with their knowledge, and recognize the responsibility that comes with telling cultural stories. Perseverance and determination are just as essential as talent. Challenges are not roadblocks—they are initiations that shape you into a sharper, truer version of yourself. Tell the stories only you can tell, and tell them with integrity.

Disclaimer: The views and opinions expressed in this interview are those of the interviewee and do not necessarily reflect the official policy or position of CanadianSME Small Business Magazine. Our platform is dedicated to fostering dialogue and sharing insights that inspire and empower small and medium-sized businesses across Canada.