Tuesday, June 30, 2009

Artist: Rock Lane of CartoonsLane


Artist: Rock Lane

Rock Lane, Brazilian Cartoonist, Painter, Journalist-Illustrator and Architect. Some of the awards (cartoons and graphic design): - Citation for Excellence in RANAN LURIE POLITICAL CARTOON AWARD 2008 – New York (USA) - Excellence award in the 2nd Postage Stamp Design Contest (Japan) in 1991 - Premio Sandro Carlesso in Umoristi A Marostica (ITALY) in 1995 -Special Jury Prize on the 5th Kyoto International Cartoon Exhibition (Japan) 2002.

Mr. Lanes Art is very thought provoking, pictures within pictures, and some just breath taking..

Moon With Blue Rose by Lane

Love Tree by Lane

Sighted While Blog Rolling

Artist Painter: Braulio Matos

I came across Braulio Matos' Blog the other night, and I just wanted so share one of his paintings, and afford anyone who reads my blog the opportunity to check out his blog. I am including in Spanish the first part of his blog, for those who are fortunate enough to speak the language. I am not. But i do not have to speak the language to love his work.

Rosalina Orocú Mojica

Panamamérica, 26 de junio, 2009.

Ver sus obras es una invitación a viajar por los mundos ilimitados, infinitos de la imaginación. Es despertar al niño que duerme dentro de cada uno esperando el más mínimo descuido para escaparse como un Peter Pan a la tierra del Nunca Jamás.

Son puertas mágicas que conducen a recorrer parajes impresionantemente bellos, llenos de animales como caballos, vacas, conejos, elefantes, gatos, ratones... que vuelan, nacen de objetos, están dentro de gavetas, son prolongaciones de vida…

Dan saltos, son de colores distintos a los convencionales, porque en este reino animal, este escenario pictórico de Matos ellos tienen los papeles estelares.

“Son totems, símbolos”, de la pintura…“Vivo para el arte”, expresa y califica su obra como una pintura que encaja en el “realismo mágico”.

..........."MI PEQUEÑO MUNDO".............

Galería Habitante
30 de junio, 2009
7:00 p.m. - 9:00 p.m.

Monday, June 29, 2009

The Goddess has always Blessed me

The Goddess has always Blessed me.. I have had some really fine teachers over the years, to help me move forward along my pathway.. I tried to end this life as teen.. I still have the scar on my wrist..

I am still here.. even though I still remember all of the pain in my life from birth to my thirties.. when I changed pathways.

The daily beatings.. the physical and mental abuse.. "Where would you be now, if we hadn't adopted you!" How many times did I hear it? How many..? week after week!.. day after day!.. "You don't deserve to have a dog, you were illegitimate ..""You're illegitimate, You're illegitimate,You're illegitimate," It was like mantra...."Do what I say, or I'll throw you out!".."Where would you go if we put you on the street! Do what I say!".."She's too dark skinned, you can't go out with her.".."We don't care what you do, as long as you don't bring the police here."

It was a day by day pattern of walking on egg shells.. not knowing what I would say that would set off a beating.. I am in therapy, and have been for about thirteen years.. between metaphics and therapy.. I can move forward.

i knew i had a bother, Rein, i had dreams of him ridding up on a Harley and taking me away from this abusive home.. i didn't realize he was my younger brother.. i just wanted someone to save me.. my social worker form when i was in the adoption home, came a few times.. the beatings started after she stopped coming..

I still hear the Screaming in My Head.... I still live by what I learned as a child.. "Nothing is ever enough, for one, for whom Enough, is too little." and "Know the Beast, for the Beast that it Is, and not for it's Beastly Deeds."

Friday, June 26, 2009


I wrote this over thirty years ago.


Where am I? I'm in San Francisco, it's late evening, or very early morning. The fog's in, and there is slight drizzle or maybe rain;. There's s bit of an icy nip in the air, and I have my serape close around me, with my hat pulled low.

I like walking in San Francisco late at night. It stirs up old memories. Some good, others bad. Like this area we're in now, with the wind blowing in off of the bay... Ships swaying at their mooring lines....

A little chilly, you say. Yes, the back side of Potrero Hill is this way at times.

These streets, with their barracks type apartments.. bring back memories I wish I could forget. You see the hospital over there, well, it is kind of hard to see it through the fog. That large structure over there, well that's San Francisco General. I was born there a little over twenty-nine years ago... Over here a few blocks, yes, right there is 60 Dakota Street., my first home.

My father's name was Leon Warren Moxon.. or that's the name that was on my birth certificate. I never knew him.. I was told he was lost at sea during World War II, before I was born. He would have been 48 next year.

My mother's name is Beverly Jeanne Mertes. My memories of her are a lot like this place, some are good, some I pray I'll some day forget.

I remember a Christmas.. Our dog, an Irish setter, had puppies.. Funny I never remembered that until just now. Rain and I were very excited. We were both dressed like twins in carpenter overalls and hats.. and there were all those puppies...

I remember riding on the back of Mr. Todds motorcycle... hmm mm... another blank...

Mr. Eckert's gone somewhere, and Rein and I are alone with mother and our grandparents. Rein is my half-brother.. He's Mr. Eckert's son.

There's an old corner store at the top of a hill in my memory, but I can't find it now... Our grandfather used to by me candy there...

I remember sliding down a hill on cardboard, on a very sunny day. I skinned my knee. Mother took us all to the beach that day and a large wave crashed over me. I almost got washed out to sea.

I get sad when I remember that because the next thing I remember is my grandmother being very sick a lot of the time. Then grandmother got too sick to take care of us. Rein and I were taken to a place, that I later found out was for unwanted children.

It was cold in the room they locked us in. Gray walls all around us.... There was a window in one wall looking out over the front of the building, and it was open. I don't know how many stories up we were. My brother and I were crying. We went to the window and looked out through the bars. Far below we could see mother and grandmother leaving.... All we could think of, was getting out and finding our way home. We didn't know why we were there. We banged on the door, but no one came. We had no idea what would happen to us.

We went again to the window. I was quite small and frail then, and I had an idea, not a good one, I was going to climb out on the ledge through the bars, with nothing but escape on my mind. I stuck my head and shoulders through the bars.........

I was lying down in something, moving very fast. There was a loud pulsating noise. I now know it was the siren of an ambulance. I was headed for a hospital somewhere.

I couldn't figure out where I was, where I was going, or why. I couldn't feel anything. I asked where I was going, but was only told that I was going to see my brother, who had had an accident. I never saw my brother again.

I spent two years in that hospital; I've had a phobia about them since.

When released I was placed up for adoption. i was in and out of many homes. A year later I was placed in a home, but I had tonsillitis and acute malnutrition. So I went back to the hospital....

It hasn't warmed up any has it? In fact it looks a lot like it's going to rain a little harder. Listen to those fog horns.. Well, good night.. Maybe we'll meet again some time. What? What was my name? Well that would be telling... I've had at least ten names since then... By the way, do you know Rein Eckert? I've searched for him my hole life.. If you do.. let me know... by now....


Well, that was more than thirty years ago.. I did find him.. I had to find my mother to find him.. but on the upside, I found two sisters I didn't know I had. I am now connected with my brother and with my sisters.. they mean a lot to me... I Love Him..we went through some terrible times togeather.. he really means the world to me..

My adopted parents, were abusive.. both emotionaly and physicaly.. I remember when my adoptive mother broke a wooden garden chair over my back one day.. I kept hoping I would be able to become what they wanted, but I never was.. good enough.. they never liked my art.. I just couldn't measure up.. the only time they liked me was when I was a Christian minister.. I tried, it didn't work for me.. when I changed my pathway, my whole life and outlook changed.

Thursday, June 25, 2009

My Choaker

This is my Croaker .. The beads are Spanish trade beads and are over two hundred years old.. it and a few other possessions are all that I have of my heritage .. i look like my mother and not my father.. I have never found him...

The Faces of Inner Rage 2

This was the last of the series, at least for a while.. I have osteoarthritis in my hands and other joints, and the sculpting is painful.. but sometimes the results are such a rush.. I started the Faces of Inner Rage, to redirect the rage that is within me.. from something terrifing.. to something beautiful...

The Faces of Inner Rage

This stone figure I carved in about eight hours.. They are done in soap stone, and are carved with knives and finished with paste wax in the oven, then buffed with a soft cloth.. This one was number four I think..

Tuesday, June 23, 2009

The Third Eye

I can not tell you where she comes from, only that she is female, is telepathic and has some precognition... why she has a mane similar to the Cat People, I don't know.. but it is how I saw her.. her people are older than the Cat People.

The Cat People

This is a series I named The Cat People of Sirius, I believe them to be some of the first people to colonize this planet.. I have memories of them, standing in a vessel in space, watching the Earth cool... They are an all female race...

The Shaman Arises Through The Face of Rage

I did this work to help me in my transition from Christianity to the Nature based religion of the Goddess almost 25 years ago.

Sunday, June 21, 2009

My Altar to the Nile Goddess

I serve the Goddess in all Her forms the Nile Goddess is my favorite .. She embodies everything I feel...

My Altar to Quan Yin

I serve the Goddess in all Her forms in China She is called Quan Yin...

The Golden Marmoset

The Golden Marmoset watches over the bedroom.. he is very quiet...

The Hidden One

The Hidden One always looks down form above your left shoulder...

The Guardian

The first thing any one sees as they enter my house is The Gardian.. i carved The Gardian, many years ago.. i guess about 20.. All of me is carved into every piece i do..

Friday, June 19, 2009

The Deep Forest

I really love the deep forest. It's so very quiet, yet so full of noise.

If you'll only listen, you can hear the leaves fall to the ground, and the birds singing and the needles crunching under your feet.

You can hear the wind whispering softly and the needles rustling against each other in the great trees.

You can feel the never ending rain falling from somewhere up above, but you can't see the sky.

You can smell the fresh, damp air, so clean, so clean... the smells and sounds hooks you and draws you deeper and deeper into the woods. You can't help taking off your shoes and socks, and putting your bare toes into the carpet of needles on the ground.

It makes you want to walk and run and stand and sit all at the same time. It makes you want to laugh and cry and sing and dance and worship before our Mother the Earth.

She has wrapped us in peace and serenity and all we Her children can do is thank Her....

Thursday, June 18, 2009


Grain mirrors the cycles of our lives….

Grain dies in the sun.. in the ground lives again…

Grain suckles from our Mother’s rich tears…

Grain, thirsty for life, breaks forth from its husk…

Grain, forces new shoots to spring out of rich soil…

Grain points her tips to the Sun…

Grain’s flowered heads bend in the wind..

And fall to the ground to feed us again...

Monday, June 15, 2009

My lovely wife and I have been married 17 years.. shortly after we married our doctor found a carcinoid tumor in her left lung.. She lost the lung.. Pneumonectomy.. Big word.. it was an awful ordeal.. after 9+ years she really got tired of that awful scar that went from under her breast back and around her back.. the ugly scar had to go.. this was her answer..

Sunday, June 7, 2009

The Secret Place

Come.. come.. come with me.. to a place I know of.. of peace.. of quiet.. of meditation… Where time stops, and the day.. and the night.. blend into the mist.. and feel the gentle caresses, of the dark… Relax.. sit or lie still in a comfortable place… Close your eyes, and let your Being.. your Self.. drift… Let all that is who You are, be at rest and at ease within the Self… Let the silence grow, and embrace you.. the stillness and calm, flow over you as a sea.. a blanket of comfort… And you will find this place that I flee to.. that shuts out all pain.. and stress.. from the places we inhabit, in the hours that bind our days …. Come…

There are rainbows in the morning mists.. they change their colors.. they move.. they twist… And the rays of the Sun shine down, to change the morning dew into diamonds, that sparkle in a myriad of colors in the early morning dawn….

A flower glistens with fresh droplets, and the early light of the Sun causes it to become a picture in your mind.. that you’ll by no means forget….

Over slightly to the right, there is a great dark green tree, that spreads its branches so high into the sky, you can not see the top… Here, below the lowest limb.. covered with green moss.. glistening in great beauty, a spider has caught a billion drops of water in her web, bejeweling the great tree in a necklace of emeralds….

There is a brook that flows with sparkling clear water over multicolored stones, in the midst of this moss covered clearing.. you can almost hear her laughter as she rushes by you… Tiny white and blue flowers grow in the simple dignity of the Mother Goddess, in this lush blue-green carpet ... Flowers of every shape.. size.. color and scent almost surround our clearing….

Ferns, large.. and small.. spread their fronds over the last of the flowers.. And then, the trees begin, all sizes.. shapes.. colors.. First small bushes, then fruit trees all in bud.. blossom.. and then fully matured fruit, ready to fall from the branches… Now following, are the great trees, the tops of which can not be seen, and the bottoms that the Sun never reaches. Here the rain forever falls, and the mists rise.. and there is a constant sound.. a noise, that you barely notice hearing.. it touches your soul on a new levels of perception.. of comfort.. of well being….

The air is pure.. you can breath.. you can almost touch it... the scent.. the smell of the earth after the rain has come.. it fills your heart.. and hope rises….

Here.. in this place.. you are at peace.. you walk.. you lie down on the moss.. you sit against a tree.. you rest.. the only paths within, are the ones you make.. there are no limits upon your stay.. She does not change.. She brings no cause for stress… only those creatures and things that belong in the Mothers Garden are here.. nothing to harm.. nothing to threaten.. nothing to take peace from your Self.. your being….

This is the Secret Place….

Embrace the Night

Come take my hand..

Be still.. and feel at peace.

Let the darkness embrace your being, as a blanket of comfort that surrounds you..

Let the anxiety of the day lift, and your heart slow to a level of just being..

Extend the boundaries of your Self, and let the comfort and peace of the night embrace you..

Feel and know a sense of just being..

The lightness of letting go of all the everyday troubles, thoughts and conflict..

Look within and find the Self.. The true you.. See your Self. No recrimination, no one else’s expectation of who they think you should be..

See who you are, embrace who and what you are.. and know that it’s alright to be that person..

The Dark, the Night holds no pain.. It is a velvet blanket of warmth and comfort.. That which assaults you during the day has no hold in the Night..

The light of the Day and the brightness of the Sun can sometimes add to the emotional pain that you feel.. Embrace the Dark.. let it bring it’s warmth, it’s peace, it’s comfort to your being..

Let the Goddess hold you in Her arms and bring you to suckle at her breast.. Let Her comfort you as only our Mother can..

Feel Her embrace, holding you.. giving you of Herself.. taking all those things that trouble you, and sending them far from you..

Saturday, June 6, 2009

Days Remembered

Late one night a small terrified E-nec-qua came into my bed.
The men who tended the fire had seen her go into my tent, and told our father.. when she did not come out and the Sun had risen it’s full height in the sky, our father gave five spotted horses to Red Dear.
I took care of the tribe and she took care of me… making my clothes and cooking for me.. and taking care of all my physical needs… we became lovers, and were always together, until the day we died…
On the 24th of February in 1788, E-nec-qua stood upon a knoll that overlooked the camp… the day that death came. she saw them take me to the ground, and rape me. She watched in wrapped horror as he cut my breasts from my body, and took my hair from me… I could hear her screams… blind screams…
As I stood beside the great Grey Wolf I watched and felt all the pain that happened that day… Empath… time without beginning or end.
I saw them drag her down screaming. I saw and felt her terror and revulsion, as he who smelled of death penetrated her. I saw and felt the knife as he took her life while he raped her… and then took her breasts and hair.
I stood upon the hillside a long time that day… Spirit Guides and Spirits of the dead waited together until all but one was with us.
Hiding by the river, a naked girl child stood within the reeds, watching.. tears of rage running down her cheeks.
The Red Fox Spirit spoke to the Wolf, “I go now, to take the Fox Maiden away from here. The men must not find her. We must hide her now, so that we may heal her and teach her the old ways so that they will not be lost.” And so saying, She left us.
Now the burning had begun. The old, the young, and the women were dead. They had piled our bodies up in several places, as they looted the camp.
The hunters would return in three days and find only charred ruins of what had been….
There were now four figures now coming toward us, clothed with the Sun, as if on fire.. the Wolf told me then that we must go with them, and they would lead us to a place and a time of rest….

Remembrances of Nau-kish-tae

E'bow The Bear

22 June 1767

I remember…

When I was nine, the Bear came looking for me early in the morning. The tribe was just waking… just getting ready for another day of the festival. He scared them and upset some of the things they had set up the day before. He turned over things and made a great noise. He was great in size and very black, but as the early morning Sun hit his fur there was a glint of a red rusty color. His shoulders were silver grey, going to almost white in color.
My father was upset, and came to the tent of the Old One to get me.
The tribe would have killed the Bear, but this bear left no track in the soft earth.
The Bear and I walked back into the forest.
He came to teach me strength, and inward meditation within the cave. To look, to see, and to digest my experiences. To become as he is and to attune myself to the energies of the Eternal Mother.
It was a journey into silence, and inward peace.
He came also to teach the tribe that I was the chosen… that someday the old One would be gone, but the Spirits would still be with them… within me….
In the next eight years many more came to teach me. each time three or four of the tribe saw the Guide come and go, but as before, no track was left in the earth.

Remembrances of Nau-kish-tae

The Day Of The Choosing

25 March 1988

I was in a class on meditation.. and past life regression.. I went everywhere packed.. and I was trying to change who and what I was. I needed to let go the violence.. and become who I truly was.. to stop looking for a rapist or a mugger.. to give up the desire for a vigilante life style….
We were doing a meditation.. one of my teachers said I was to find a picture of my goal, and my goal was to be to move from Emerging shaman… to Practicing Shaman…. He said, “Now, go back to the reason for that goal”….
My eyes opened on two plains of existence, on 20 March 1765….
I saw through my eyes, and through other eyes from above and behind me at about 11:00 o’clock in the sky.
Below me a small girl walked with a basket.. then through those eyes I saw the forest around me.. I was that little girl…
I gathered my basket and things and quietly left the festival. I was melancholy again. My father had talked to me about being like the other children, and not being so quiet and talking more. He wanted me to have other people for friends not just animals.
I went to our living space and left my other things. I then took my basket and I went into the trees to a quiet meadow I knew contained berries. I often would go there with the animals to be alone and observe and learn and just to be still.
The berry bushes formed a ring with one break in the circle. The circle surrounded a large rock and an old tree. The rock had one flat face, and the rest was rounded.
I lay my basket down for a moment and just sat with my legs folded beneath me to bask in the early afternoon Sun. The air was fresh and Sun beat down on me warmly.
As I looked at the rock a face seemed to appear… then as I watched more closely, it became more and more pronounced.
As I sat spellbound, as the great grey head and fore paws came out from within the rock… then she was there… and I beheld the largest, most beautiful Wolf I had ever seen, six to seven hands at her shoulder. I did not move, I just sat and looked knowing she was there, but wondering if I were sane. If I had stood up, I still would have had to look up into her eyes.
At first she just stood and gazed at me silently. Then, after a few moments she moved toward me… I had no fear…. I felt very calm… it felt as if I were wrapped in my mothers love…
Now we are face to face and I am starring up into the most incredible golden eyes… that… seem… to know… me… me…..
The quiet peace of this meadow now contains no sound except my heart and breath… within the quiet… She speaks… to… me….

“I am the Wolf Spirit… this day, little one, is the day of your choosing… The Spirits of the Mother have chosen you… I have chosen you… I will be your guide and your teacher, throughout your life. You will become the Shaman for your tribe and I will guide you.”

I felt warmth, wonder, elation and joy… more love and bonding than I could remember. But, I also felt a foreboding….
The tribe thought I was not as other children… too quiet… would this make them like me more, or less…?
Many more thoughts passed through my mind as She looked me in the eyes. She loved me, I could feel it… it surrounded me… it enfolded me… I could see it within Her eyes…I could hear her voice within myself, ‘She would return another day and many more thereafter, and all my questions would be answered’.
She turned then and walked within the great old tree that stood next to the rock She had come out from.
I sat a long time and thought over these events, still looking at the bark of the tree where She had walked within….
Then I heard still another voice… another one of my teachers in this existence, Petey’s voice saying, “Come back to the present… be in the center of your own head.” I had to fight… I did not want to come back… but I knew where this life led, and the horror of my own death in it… and I came back.
Phil was still in front of us, and I had a hard time stabilizing in the now… the pictures just kept coming for a while after, for when I see, it is like a movie, and I can not turn it off…
From above I had seen a young Indian girl, age about seven summers, with long straight hair that hung below her waist. Hair that had never been cut. She was wearing a buckskin dress with a blue bead pattern on it. She sat with her feet tucked under her gazing at flowers and insects and birds, and gazing around the meadow. she placed the basket just in front of her, and picked a flower. The basket was round and had triangular patterns on it.
As she looked at the large rock next to the old tree, a wolf many times her size came out from within the solid rock. (I say her, only because I was not seeing through her eyes, although, I was I guess, because I saw both things at the same time. I knew I was that girl.) The wolf regarded her momentarily, and then the wolf approached her and looked down into her eyes.
The wolf spoke to her.
They then regarded one another again looking deeply into each other eyes. Then the shewolf turned from her and walked to the tree and passed within.
When I returned, and finally opened my eyes.. we each discussed what we had seen and what had happened to us.

Remembrances of Nau-kish-tae

Remembrances of Nau-kish-tae

24 February 1988

A spontaneous past life regression. The first of many that let me look back two hundred years. I was shopping that day at Alpha Beta, and had half a shopping cart filled when I started to see on more than one plane of existence. It truly scarred me. I left the half filled cart, and the store and went home.. My neighbor Patritcia took me into their kitchen, and we talked for hours about what I was seeing. This is a narrative of what I saw.

I remember… Nau-kish-tae  24 February 1788

It was a cool, almost clear morning, I had been up for several hours. A slight mist still hung over the river, and the air was fresh and clean.
I had risen early, just before dawn, so I could offer prayers and tobacco to the Great Spirit for the hunt the warriors would leave on before the Sun had risen. We needed food, it had been several days since they had been successful. Seeing them safely on their journey, I then stayed in the meadow to do my own meditation. I remembered always feeling uncomfortable around large groups of the men. I had never been with a man, for I was the Shaman of my tribe, and many of the men feared me. Feared a two-spirit, and feared what they did not understand. The Old One had tried to explain these things, but many were unwilling to listen. They only wanted a good hunt, and their own pleasures.
I stood apart from our camp that morning, continuing to offer prayers for the tribe to the Great Spirit for our sick and elderly.
The Sun was just starting to warm me as it came slowly over the edge of the hill. Quite suddenly I noticed that there was no sound except the rumble of the river. The river sounded like the thunder of the water fall, churning with a great noise. Then the rumble got louder. I turned and saw a great company of men on horseback, their hooves sending the river water in a great spray, riding toward me and the camp. Some of these men broke off from the main company and came for me.
Children and adults alike within the camp saw them now and began to scream and run. The old men and some of the children they just killed outright.
I turned to run as the men came for me, but I did not get out of the meadow. They jumped on top of me from horse back, and forced me to the ground. They immediately started to punch me and tear my clothing from me, shredding it.
I tried to scream, but all the air had been knocked out of me when they crashed on top of my back. My legs were forced apart and they were trying to rape me. I was being raped, and I finely found my voice and screamed, but they laughed. They had found a virgin who was about 30 summers. They raped me repeatedly and did other vile things to me, and all the time I could hear other women being treated the same. All the time, there were the death screams of children and others in my ears.
The Sun was now high over head, and I just lay there letting them, all my strength gone from me. I was hoping someone would come, maybe someone would return from the hunt. I just stared blankly into the Sun.
Then he came. He smelled of death, and blood dripped from his hands and face, and he laughed. He too, tried to penetrate me, but he could not. He took out his knife and looked me directly in my eyes… then he placed the knife just under the swell of my left breast and began to cut me… the blood ran fast down my chest to my navel and on… he laughed again. What he could not do with his penis, he would do through mutilation.
Everything went dark… and then it was light again, only different, sharper colors and perceptions. I saw him from a few feet away, and then from above, and then I was way up in the sky looking down. Then my eyes changed and I stood on the top of the hill above our camp, I was dressed in my best ceremonial clothing, feathers moving in the breeze and my Spirit Guide stood beside me.
We stood on a small hill and looked down on the terrible scene below. Four men still held me down as my body thrashed. While one man still penetrated me, the fifth man moved and placed the knife under my right breast and began to cut until my body had only two pulpy lumps where my breasts had been.
It was as if we watched a scene that was not real, yet I knew it was for I could feel the pain. I can still feel the pain. The pain in my own body.. the pain of each rape.. the pain of each death.. the loss of their spirit.. the pain of each member of my clan. (When ever I remember this time, I feel the pain all over again. Two hundred years have passed, and I still feel the pain.)
As we watched he started to cut a neat line around my head just below my hair line… I willed my heart to stop… I knew.., I could not return to that brutalized body.
My once beautiful hair, that had hung all the way to my toes, was now a token on his belt, and my breasts were in a pouch on his side.
Then I thought of E-nec-qua, and the love we shared, and would never share again.. how she loved to braid my hair.. and suckle at my breast… but this time was over.. would there be a time together somewhere again…? Where was she? Was she alive? She did not stand with us yet upon the hill.. then I saw her about half way down below us, screaming.. crying in terror, as men were coming for her. There was to be no escape.
As I and the great Grey Wolf Spirit watched, he went on through the camp and repeated his vile act upon all he came to.
They then packed up all the objects of our camp that they wanted and burned everything and everyone.
There was nothing left for the warrior to come back to, or to send on to the Great Spirit upon their return. There was nothing…
Again I stood beside the great Wolf Spirit, and it was as many seasons had past. We were in a great room of men, and we watched as men and women laughed and drank.
But I smelled him.. then I saw him… he was still filthy, and he still smelled of death. Others of that place stood apart from him… even his own, could see that death hung upon him, as the cloths on his back.
He ordered another man to bring him more drink. As he paid, he asked the other man if he wanted coin or gold dust. The other man, not being a fool, asked for dust, for a drunken man pinches more than the need requires. As we watched he took out two leather bags, and looked into each to find which he had placed his dust in. Each of the bags had a nipple, and as he opened the bag, I saw the birthmark from my left breast upon the second bag.
The two bags were my own breasts….
I remember no more of this man….

14 April 1988

I see a store of things… gadgets… junk… jewelry…. there are many counters… shelves with blankets… old things belonging to the dead… old things of the people. There under the glass counter top, by the cash register is a worn leather bag… there is a nipple a third of the way down and just off center… and a birthmark to the right of the nipple….
I feel the pain again….
Someday I will see this place with these eyes… then it must be bought… and burned on the scared ground of the tribe….

Remembrances of Nau-kish-tae