To Look Upon That Landscape In The

My Father Was A Painter And He Taught Art. He Once Said To Me, 'i Never Knew An Indian Child Who Could Not Draw.'

Words Were Medicine; They Were Magic And Invisible. They Came From Nothing Into Sound And Meaning. They Were Beyond Price; They Could Neither Be Bought Nor Sold.

There Is A Great Good In Returning To A Landscape That Has Had Extraordinary Meaning In One's Life. It Happens That We Return To Such Places In Our Minds Irresistibly. There Are Certain Villages And Towns, Mountains And Plains That, Having Seen Them Walked In Them Lived In Them Even For A Day, We Keep Forever In The Mind's Eye. They Become Indispensable To Our Well-being; They Define Us, And We Say, I Am Who I Am Because I Have Been There, Or There.

The Turn Of The Century Was The Lowest Point For The Devastation Of Indian Culture By Disease And Persecution, And It's A Wonder To Me That They Survived It And Have Not Only Maintained Their Identity, But Are Actually Growing Stronger In Some Ways. The Situation Is Still Very Bad, Especially In Certain Geographical Areas, But There Are More Indians Going To School, More Indians Becoming Professional People, More Indians Assuming Full Responsibility In Our Society. We Have A Long Way To Go, But We're Making Great Strides.

Although My Grandmother Lived Out Her Long Life In The Shadow Of Rainy Mountian, The Immense Landscape Of The Continental Interior Lay Like Memory In Her Blood