This past week I experienced the gift of a lifetime. At the Osage Museum, which is the longest tribally run museum in America, and where my grandfather was museum director, I unveiled my work along side the profound artist and educator, Wendy Ponca, my mother. If I had been asked to dream of a more joyful, generational, excellent honor I would have fallen short of the mark.
Thank you @osagenationmuseuem and our community for holding the legacy of healthy, generous, artistic relationships and dialogue within our people. Thank you Mom @wendyponca . I will never repay your wisdom and generosity but Iโll keep trying my best.
๐ธ @sarah.elsberry ๐๐ฝ๐ & @russtallchief ๐๐ฝ๐
My grandfathers, Greg Stock and Carl Ponca! Two of the most kind, intelligent, funny and loving people Iโve ever known. Very very grateful for the privilege of knowing these men and being their grandchild.
Thank you @mikmix for sharing this photo with me!
โTechnological Detritus/Broken Portalโ 2022
Come visit me at Indian Market, booth 325! Beadwork, paintings and jokes. Iโm very honored to be sharing a booth with one of my best and oldest friends, @weomepe ๐๐ฝ. We will have the goods, Indian Country!
Well this spooky season has been a great success. Liam carved an excellent pumpkin. Wiley was a perfect Chucky. Sarah got in touch with her roots as a spicy meat pie ๐๐ฝAND We had a kick ass artist reception/opening for INDIGICHIC, then went next door for some karaoke with NDN Elvis. ๐๐๐๐ฝ๐๐ฅฐ๐ฅฒ๐๐ฝ๐๐ฝ๐๐ฝCheck out the CHICk at 1321 E 6th through January! ๐๐ฝ๐๐ฝ๐๐ฝ๐๐ฝ๐๐ฝ๐๐ฝ๐๐๐๐๐๐ฝ
Excellence is abundant in Indian Country! Come check it out for yourself @santafeindianmarket this weekend!!! And stop by to see the legend, @weomepe and me at booth SFT E 526 ๐๐๐๐๐
Dang you guys itโs so good! So grateful for this show, these artists and @indigichic.tulsa ๐๐ฝ๐๐ฝ๐๐ฝ๐๐ฝ๐๐ฝ๐๐ฝ๐๐ฝ๐๐ฝ๐๐ฝ๐๐ฝ๐๐ฝ๐๐ฝ๐๐ฝ๐๐ฝ
My photography is terrible but MOVEMENT is so good. Check it out through September!
Before you know what kindness really is
you must lose things,
feel the future dissolve in a moment
like salt in a weakened broth.
What you held in your hand,
what you counted and carefully saved,
all this must go so you know
how desolate the landscape can be
between the regions of kindness.
How you ride and ride
thinking the bus will never stop,
the passengers eating maize and chicken
will stare out the window forever.
Before you learn the tender gravity of kindness
you must travel where the Indian in a white poncho
lies dead by the side of the road.
You must see how this could be you,
how he too was someone
who journeyed through the night with plans
and the simple breath that kept him alive.
Before you know kindness as the deepest thing inside,
you must know sorrow as the other deepest thing.
You must wake up with sorrow.
You must speak to it till your voice
catches the thread of all sorrows
and you see the size of the cloth.
Then it is only kindness that makes sense anymore,
only kindness that ties your shoes
and sends you out into the day to gaze at bread,
only kindness that raises its head
from the crowd of the world to say
It is I you have been looking for,
and then goes with you everywhere
like a shadow or a friend.
KINDNESS
By Naomi Shihab Nye
FREE FREE FREE FREE FREE PALESTINE