Great Spirit

Our society calls it a "manic episode." I know it was not. This is good, but it's not enough. It's not enough to be alone in a realization. Our society is also built on the genocide of millions of Native Americans. I ask you. Was it a "vision" or a symptom of mental illness.
I had been watching episodes from the amazing PBS documentary "We Shall Remain," which finally establishes Native history as an essential part of American history. I was deeply moved. I was inspired by Tecumseh's Vision and Geronimo's audacity to fight for his way of life. My "vision" is another story, but I shared what I realized about mental illness with everyone I could, especially those who were suffering. Finally I felt a yearning to come in contact with people that would not consider my "vision" as something "sick" or "beyond belief," something that was normal. I realized I could only find true acceptance from Native Americans. While in the midst of my vision I felt "the Great Spirit" because this land is that spirit. Now, when I feel overwhelmed, I sometimes stop and listen to it breath through leaves, and dance between the chirps of a bird. I gain my strength to endure from this spirit.

Conceptual Art always begins with synchronicity.
I was watching "Wounded Knee"
At one point a man explained how he had to hold his friends brains in his skull after he was shot.
At that moment Lee texted: "this is so crazy learning about myself"
I had no idea what she was referring to so I could only make the parallel...
I replied "good timing" (Lee always has good timing).
Lee: "It's so messed up."
Me: "how did you know"
Lee: "Lexi and the psychic combo"
Me: "psychic is right"
Lee: "It's not who is right it's just like everything like sequence of events crazily."
Metaphysical conversations should not be attempted via text message. But it makes for great conceptual art. After this I knew it was "on."
I had been feeling rather down for about a week. I just didn't feel like my work was being appreciated. I was broke and had to apply for disability. I kept working but I felt oppressed. After watching the documentary I sent an email to: "contact the Native American Program at Harvard University." It was a plea for understanding. I was desperate. When I lay in bed I dreamed without sleeping. I sent out my plea. Then I asked God to help me get up in the morning and died for the day.
I awoke to a dream of a large white painting with Jesus lying down on the crucifix. Foreshortened, and horizontal to the picture plane.
This was my wake up call. Thanks Jesus. He's a busy guy, with everybody yelling his name all the time and calling on him to do stuff. I was honored he was even able to send that little effigy to get me up. I knew it was going to be a good day, so with only a slight hesitation, I got out of bed. I got ready and headed out to the dance complex, where I was going to hang some prints. When I walked in the door, there across from me was a large man wearing traditional Native American dancing dress. Tall gray eagle feathers stood up from his headdress on the chair next to him. I introduced myself, slightly unsure of how forward to be. His name was Don and he had come to do a traditional dance. I mentioned my vision and he said he once had a vision himself and it was very powerful. There was nothing at all strange about our interaction and our acknowledgement of this fact of life. A great burden was lifted from me. I finally had an elder to look up to. One that was alive. An artist who understood the struggle of believing in a different reality and the oppression which ensues. He danced with tears in my eyes like a great bird of prey. A phoenix rising from the ashes of a material world. Crying out against injustice.
That night I sold more T-shirts than ever, and found out Lee is part Native American. This is the reality I choose to live in. It is one that is different, exciting, and magical.

Native American culture has the power to teach us how we should be treating the earth so we do not destroy ourselves by destroying it.