The day i sang with my singers of our people a need i needed to understand. Be place for place and have knowing with the dirt floor under my feet. I looked to my people at moments to know who is around this dream. Understand at all singing and work, my grandpa Lawrence in my singing voice if he was not singer.
I took my shoes off and placed my hands over my knees. Looking to who is here. Value is in the place it is placed.
I will know this place as best I can be with it. The berry fields it once was. And know the time i walked around it playing games as a child is now a place for songs and our people.
I say this to my generation, how hard it is to learn, the bridge of what we have been called as what i would imagine a leap year.
The past dream of a house in all postings, had little to do with my grandmothers responsible nature. Carol Anne told me to know and make things if they are seen. I was influenced by the houses i saw from my alaskan and Nuu-chah-nulth then.
She talked about repatriation and hands being removed from bones, The dark history of where we were and now who we are now. The roots of the thorns i know them as all my childhood memories.
This house is about everyone but as my history goes in my words. I would not betray my reminder of teaching, I saw some dependance inside, felt in myself the parts of self, and reminded by words of the speaking.
The paint calls you to life and you don’t call this to be your life.
init
this humming reminder that a dream is just a dream and I saw one impossible thing.
the work of Nippon and our alliance that once was.
I have rare songs of what is best men who worked across this place
404….
as long as the house has doors on it’s house. I will be the dog of Uncle Reuben and man Grandfather. I will paint but not be the paint.
As spirit of my father as some can say, I know myself as a ground, a maker not a voice. my words are mostly in my hands. This day I feared arrive and now.
Reuben Wright
I am the collar around my neck, a part of things, known, the gift of what was left to me, I took not for granted and know the ground of war force fed to me and what little Reuben, hold onto value of our place. The place the thunderbird house is made one is from Benjamin. I took shoes off to imagine this.
other places took name but no matter where we go, I know my sand, no imported sand. Uncle said if you make place here one day you’ll find clam shells. I knew this was shell miden. I told him as Sitwell we are this, he smiled like Punkin.
At time we complain about price if we are as we are told, it means we must be the 300 as the days of what told to us call. Thlispaš
her was no dance but all her is makes me feel emotion as river in place where I want our people to feel all can.
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as Lock shot, let go, I kneel before the wolves and all our people can see I see myself as grandson of dog.
at the times we came back from Neah Bay Reuben had a tape deck with the Doors and radio.
Reuban joked that the time Jim Morrison died, and noted how much I had the integrity. That memory is now in me with a tired tire.
but if it has nothing left it found it’s way to be the evolution of arms as a memory of men that can go to water and a song our people know things of iron keep. I am Damascus for memory with a song fan of a place I will know and guard. Because, time before celebrity I am as my father and his guard not leader but protector of of feat, that is hear with the side of river you know is it’s belong.
as my feet touch the earth bare, I know to my known, my memory no land belongs to us and may be this words in past of time of lil,Reuben. War of my fathers go, to be for us to be placed with shelter.