Don Yeomans once made a design that I had conversation of with George David in morbid curious. Be the name they call us as rivals. The time your weavers pass, this box is to be open.
a fragment of onyx and piece of willow.
end is the beginning is the end, someone told my friend, an owl is signal of death, and it is. As a farm boy on a river bank where we had no money. I know sand bars, I was angry with someone taken to another place. I went to the sand bar to be anger.
no moon was behind in clouds, all that was there crows and a coyote.
I wear not mask I am many things of name, my river within me. I am the place you called to be.
if you ask for Tsa-qwa-sup, the iron you wish for, be careful for what you wish.
part or my heart, is gone but it never escape my knowning
no one can say, we are slaves from this day forward, we are peaceful people.as we have always been, if you ask something of our nature, know, we don’t dance with masks, we are the time within our call.
I protect that nature with my name.
some offered to place mask on me and I could never be such integrity. I wanted it as a boy but it would be a weight so heavy I can not know.
I can only be as far thrown is I can be a shadow. This told to me once by mentorship of a house. The times I could count on my hand who is the notable of our people with fame to note. I understand now as Winter comes closer, that has never been our goal or aim. The land and people beside us are the only things we know. We dance without masks and witness one another as we were only comparing selves to others when books were written. With all that behind me, I never forget the time I met Chris Cornell as a teenager after Seaweed released their album with a cover that had four paddles on its cover. I listened to that and knew those songs and of all things taken from my studio it was an item that could not be replaced.
A ship Adze that was inherited from my uncle perhaps used as a garden tool at best. If that is what was the need to break into my world. It was in my hands as the land was. I can remake some things. Like songs that escape my mind, they were the time I needed to hear them and become who is the many arms that pushed me into the place I am at this moment.
On this day some note as discovery. The four fathers I know are somewhere else and I am standing in their shadows keep.
I will never forget that moment he shook my head, I told Taqsablu about it once and she said, you became pet. Western idea would frown on such thing to be called a thing. I sat by her with my grandmother at coldest winters getting her water if she needed or peel her orange if she asked me to. That value has not escaped me and it never will.
I could hate myself for not dancing maskless but what I know is my time in my hand, what pulls me thru this place is imagination. Arms within my hands I am never lost to this place.
my brother in arms asked for a way to see how we are, I can not show what I do not live.