No entry a guard she is

this place I was taken into a room by random, place I was granted pass to be in private room where elites are.

She walked to the bar to get us a drink and looked back at me because she said I was her Asian Leo and mix and I wanted to pretend I was half as cool. As she comes back and forth to me to know a hand only I want her to hold.

If she slides up next to me in a crowded room. She had nothing to say beyond the sun and heartbeat within me to see the sun come up and realize we are at a different time table.

To me I met my destiny with a world in my hands if I can go this far. A Fox and a Wolf in a place where a sun can rise and one can set and I can hold that hand of immigration in me.

The fire that kept me an ember, reliance on the fallen.

To be hapa and know we are moved by looks over seat in position where I can look back and she slides her sandal over ‘by accident’ and I can hold it for a stretch of 20 seconds.

nothing about feet or fetish.

this place between a work I cannot make only thru words of want. I hold the the card from the place we are flight and keep it as a token. I push back her slide with my headphones on.

Whatever time it takes to arrive, I’m that passenger two rows you pushed ahead.

Feeling the feeling you have and a place you wanted to be in the sky.

Grounded I can let go of the place we went together without a kiss and smile on my face. Where I was and you arrival before we took flight.

My love of journey to Kyoto forward and back.

Forever a long want I lean over my shoulder where I want passage to be in a place

where we can see the mountains that look the same.

The Dream has ended and flight

I’m owned at 2024

Only a place of a new border and bound has no place.

A journey of my destination wear I learn a long for want we can be uncountable. Like “Her” she is arrival and place where I feel safe and me her.

the place she touches my heart and my hopes where I can hope I’m vibration.

This song found my heart thru vibrations of learning nuance and efforts where you travel many times over and break many hearts to be who you are.

A tattoo house here was once called slave to the needle and to me I was told I could be a millionaire if we lived in that place.

Where Vipers are a cocktail and challenge that if would take only if you allowed or dared me to.

if nothing else you know as Koji, I belong to the Yama. My heart a driver where I accept my flights. maybe again a place we go to the fox house where my black kimono was made

you will hold my hand.

worn for the ready Omega and Alpha.

Long for want

A broken heart and need to resolve has nothing to to with breaking another heart.

head above waver

my sense of desperation is like a water

I can feel it in my bones where someone needs something they don’t know they have knot earned. Only my time can place me where I can give back to my auntie Judy and the moon under the mountain a resolve. A playlist of making when I can feel loved and be a place forever.

Not because we have lost things but the gain of endurance.

I took humility to carve a figure that had nothing to do with her, Ramona Bennett, my Grandmother but place that a needed to stand in place a thing that will someday fall, if not cared for. It was placed where a dance is held together from a time few will understand.

There is great sacrifice in what we do as artist to attempt many times over to make best what we can for of memory.

As I feel at times I reach my end. I surge of inspiration as we all do that is a place that can feel uncontaable.

We all go thru different journey but that said. I can share this now that it’s been many years looking back. This power figure from a cousin he never explained to me.

An owl can take you, no fear acceptance and like the way Black Panther I’d want an imagination. We can’t escape the place we call regalia. There is in our ways a cloth that wants to wear your being.

The way I can long for want of someone I imagine. only in right place of mind can I be there.

it is nothing if you are not that place.

Song I long for

Long for you

a want I can close my eyes and see how much you want me as mutual

standing

I was granted a vision of a wolf with one foot in glass, absent, absinthe and gone.

cliche and click, we are worn and windfall wind that takes down the known. to A place I want to find a ground, A place I can not let go this place, a locked door. A whaler that is within you is kept silent even if not known by action, you make and change this world from travel of who you are.

Are reluctant leader and blood in your teeth you’ve kept within you great circles of knowing within.

I can go not place you go but I can admire it as a distant traveller to admire a runner ahead protection for spirit the place you are. You not my relative but I know the heart and related to all places you go.

Breaker of many hearts siege and to some called Sicario.

Joe David my heart I am wounded by lost place of a Lane I can drive no place with my vehicle and I feel blind without his math.

wolf

Keeper in the dream

A long for want and place we chase forever, I made this design from an inspiration from you painting a design of Big D

the arm of my travels and arrows that go thru me, I try to imagine all you’ve laid out before me and from this place I’m told by Holm to say this.

many of us pass and as I went to hike and burn the book of my sketches I was told to write this for the wolf that keeps his head above water. Silent and strong.

I write this a honor for knowing who you are before you are gone from a promise.

to give you a song that keeps you going from your brother that kept me sleepless and owned by a place only the known can understand.

Where a moon is a place in the day only if you take yourself long enough to go there.

Daylight in the camps and hoot owl hours

this place has name.

Unto the renounced

This day would be my nephews birthday.

Alan Arken passed and someway it is fitting. From conversation with many musicians over time talking about character actors and now the place where John Mulaney asked David Byrne to write a song for his special.

I reflect on old days I tried to impress my mentors in night to have a want for song not unlike Taqsablu. A comedians life is one that took me years to understand a place of darkness.

the songs that shaped my being as a boy came back up thru the visionary of Batman realized by Forks.

A place I had been called a black dog once for color of my skin. Yet an economy made by a world thru fantasy. I met a man outside that place I was told I cannot be and he gave me a block of alder. I model of young Doctor I made a series of small wolves I carved on the beach.

A place for me to earn respect like fire lanterns. Forever is a long for want.

Kinane might be able to dig this deep with Shane

A food for thought how circle the wagons go around us and places you go, We know how you got here. Not fault of your landing but Charlie Hill is a leg of my being that will always give me ground.

There are those of us who retain spirituality and contain a place you can not touch. A distance not travelled but stationary and protector of the trees. You were granted a window into world when Dead man was made here and being where I am this place you would not want to know.

Kinane I lived not far from you and I’d met Cornell as a boy so keep your way forward. I’m deeply proud of the voice you have with honesty. A drive of hearing bad dates mine a long for one of the last shows Carlin gave in Tacoma and his mic was cutting out and it was painful to watch my hero.

this is why this song of Pearl Jam comes back to me

Half way I die inside.

Our ways called all but snakes and clowns.

At the end of the day we lift one another up. Kinane you’ve helped a lot of people and myself included from a heart of memory of of Charlie Hill and Richard Pryor.You keep a smile on a face.

from this place I’m allowed to be a bigger story

the arrival

the time you came here was the year the blood moon showed for five times. The place you needed to be.

The river that runs Through Jack Sparrow

It hurts to be outside the hall, uninvited.

Knowing a party is held where people are dancing and engaging a place you don’t have invitation where you’d hoped you wanted so. Walk the beach or the streets to kick some rocks.

Or put your worth into weaving or writing.

The swelling of a heart that is in you is unconventional and uncontainable. Some of the greatest work I did from my point of view came from those times of long, where my friends were off having fun and I was tasked to do what I do.

I don’t expand because, well, my mentors and I have what we have and it’s a place only we can understand. In travels even on plane to do work, I rely on the notion of making a phone call to Greg Colfax that changed my life.

welcome figure by Greg Colfax, Olympia, WA

Nuance is a place I’ve valued from this mentorship for many years.

From my heart to my master this is handed over from my hand of distance only place we can understand. Bunny kept the work alive yes?

under the wing

world of imagination you gifted me. a white rabbit. Purpose and protection. Gifting Thorns around me to learn a wealth of knowledge I want you to know is not forgotten.

Iron in my throat driving to be a driver to earn my place in the world and make you understand we are doing all we can not what we cannot.

A narrow escape I’ve made, and a place of debt I wouldn’t trade for the world. If I had pursued music I would have been washed up and acting the same.

In this journey I can observe and keep young doctor work alive and know the paddle I have is one only I own and no award will be above this.

Widows peak

The vampire my cousin made sense of a place where I held in curl of the sweat my uncle was my seat.

Today a marker of the last of the house of those days.

Sitting at the church in loss of the widow peak of my uncle thinking of him a vampire recognized by one of my distant blood. Keys strike so loud witthin sound like place you as foreign land will know.

Seeing twins forward I imagined in my heart I see a new world from Whitebird from this song I kept from the time Uncle Junior gave me.

My place of being unearth contained cage.

this design made flat so others can make it bigger and known.

Testament I am here to keep these things in place.

Driver and Passenger

Passion

I can say I haven’t read much of Hemingway

Over time I’ve learned from my heart broken and myself a breaker the long never dies

A place we are taken to no matter what mountain one climbs or one dives into an ocean

the heart within you siege for long and we do what we do in different ways to get there

If I go into the mountains to get a tree that was not something we had to do long ago but I do for memory of ancestry.

The journey and travel makes it worth every hour I don’t wake up to put on a face. I put on my shoes and gear up with gas in hopes I can make enough moneyand find my earnings we not for nothing

it takes travel and patience a desire like a fire that can not be put out to find a tree that has roots that gave itself up for me to make a story Sometime this journey is lonely but my father taught me this rule to be true if you go the distance love is where you find it.

No money or worry if you trust the place within you love is a heart that no one can take from you.

The notion of climbing a mountain you will find nothing but the top be the journey within and in the place one can feel earned with wealth like no other.

Making what I make has not trade value unless it is heard from my heart and truth no arrows can reach the name and I am just narrow escape of feelings There is no suit I can wear or word I can say that makes the want that is a draw

The gamble played is for us to know worn within our places the long wishing will find you and it will be there like nothing before nameless and it will grip you and from there a new journey will begin.

keeper of the dream (Black Dog)

Work of the Nights watch

from the mountain I write these words.

No mountain one can climb or imitate a place where the need for heart finds it’s place. In that place is a heart heart and bearer of belong.

DADGAD

Happy father day.

“Whatever it is, the way you tell your story online can make all the difference.”

—

buttons on my collar

Only a man with great sense of mind would know how to resolve

a tension and be place of mind at the time of need a dog on a bed and time a place, placed between a heart broken. It comes back and heart felt, A short moment when there is a need.

Like Shadow of doubt, a world is unfold by gesture where a small being can change the world and I am no where in that place that I look to some of the small dogs as much as those who intinidate me. Moved by the place where I’m not certaain but placed as human being.

Uncertain any time I am going to put my place of the pencil of my hand, my cursor from a mouse and what I can say wondering if what I’m writing is right.

My heart I am still standing with a place where my father is alive and I am able to learn from what he was a place to teach me from his choice of movies and what moves him.

An envy I had for men who take the field where I can’t run from injury all my life when I was just young. It burns me thru to know all I can do is lift things and if I can do that.

I keep it in me to keep that ground and if a cable breaks if I tested myself, if a log is pulled up it is guarded and if I come up from there with all my fingers.

My uncles would be happy I would like to think.

At the end of the day my paintings and prints are on my fathers wall and I am making work to represent the community I am born into.

This life is bigger from his extension and that cable may break but I put myself back together in time. I’ve slept in the woods to get a log when my dad was out on the road going to play ball and feel alive.

A time came when I felt known by our people and driving my grandmother home when the sun was coming up, She said something about Elvis and I told her it wasnt that and I cant for the life of me dig it out of me.

We argued for 10 minutes maybe but when we got to Boeing field we would talk again.

Hello, World!

my father is the mad he is and his challenges have passed onto me but make me bigger for all this time is worth, I am still in rememberance of that song I was silent with my grandmother on the radio and it gave me great humility.

bird thru a window

I had no idea the value that words of a man looking at a shaky plane

small lines that go into being a place bigger, sept into the mind and held.

immagination where one can long for a time before one unfolded like a straight jacket that goes back into the sky. A place where we are Natives can dance and imagine a world that Harold let go his mind.

Where we come from friend, a blue Jay is held up by the shoulder of an eagle and his name is Charlie Hill. Protector for you thru my memory for you even if people may judge me, you are picked up by some place.

born once before again

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I’m no Indian in a cubard, I”m a real man in time and from the heart of Charlie Hill, we are ongoing and invisitble at times but doing day to day appreciation.

Memory

We have no choosing of where we are born and families we come into. I learn more and more each day about the birth of the Kinks and the birth of R&B. An appreciation for song came from my great grandmother, an undeniable force of art I am told.

As a child I went to my grandparents basement to play piano and many years later learn how off key it was and a steel string guitar when others were playing sports. I tried to make sense of the interpretation of notes of Indian songs she left for me.

Over a Looooooooong reach. Teaching myself key by name and number of hand, the woman of church told me I was learning by memory and not reading.

deep cut

One can find divide world of ego. The challenge of life is complicated.

I preface this song as brief as I can, an extension of love for my brothers who put their hearts on the line and largely, Jeremy Miller. We didn’t get along but if this is Memorial Day, he carried a lot of weight he had a belief and conviction to. That comes back to mind.

Somewhere in the loss of our people with lil Reub, who is big now. This song for our Puyallup people is my effort for our differences.

strong and silent

the first song I share is for Albert and all the efforts to rap, respect from ‘miss Jane’ Only so much I can do. Iron in my throat.

If a rap world educated me, it came surface and someone of our people will move these words so look at Qwustsun to be a new pillar.

No heart but iron we keep for time, NW vs SW VS dances you would never know, the drugs one goes a place66 belong, a cloud I try to imitate so far I bent myself backwards in sleepless time to longs for reach of understanding.

only losing the house leader of our old ways that gave me back my humility and song push back up like a walrus against the glass. he said this is for you, If you are truly strike of ignition, a call of the clouds we are part of a a thing in great division.

In where we are no named, I share this place from Tlipash, for your grandmother, because I was born with a mask on my face I didn’t ask for.

and at passing of the third last of

2+@+%

Lawrence (harold and Joe)

I recall how much envy I had for my uncle and how shy he was and powerful. He didn’t say much and doesn’t to this day. At placement I had my angst in youth he allowed me to vent the person I was supposed to grow into.

When carving the figure of our ancestry there were few who came and he was persistent and it was a situation where it was an open house gated. He came with Mike Sterud. They would sit with me and just let me know I wasn’t alone and there we were three men, one carving and I loved it.

Embracing the nature of land we come from. With no politics or division. I just let the playlist go and as I ran my skew anytime they came around I felt protection. Most of the sound came from was birds in distance and I was able to feel not alone.

Only until Redbone came one did I see them groove. I felt so alive at the sun going down, from the corner of my eye they may have even moved their arms a little.

Half way thru a fence was built and people ran cable that divided. A group of men were peaceful at the initial intro and said what they were doing work to run lines and we just passed it off.

Uncle went away and as they were friendly at first, the leader came back not knowing that Mike was in the small shop portion of the property.

The leader came back in some way different that was weird to me asking with his crew if I was a REAL Indian. As in questioning who I was even thought an hour before, he was peaceful alone. My best guess is he shared to his crew his admiration and they changed his mind and he came back to me confrontational.

“Are you a real Indian”

“what” I replied as he felt assured with his crew and I thought to myself what is this about? Are they letting me know they don’t want Native art of culture here. In focus I thought to myself what can I do here because I’m just an artist and these are five men and this wasn’t the first time I was in this place.

I thank god for how stuck the door was jammed at that place.

My iPod had shuffle on and I downloaded some old things from my Uncle Buzz that I wasn’t familiar with and, hand to Star Lord

as I leaned off the stand in my attempt to feel bigger and say what I have to defend.

Mike kicked the door open and it felt like the moment the Nerds were defended by the black house.

“what’s going on here”? uncle Mike was just mad at the door jam but these white boys that had no idea a divine intervention took place. Because at that moment I wrote it on the pole when they ran away maybe thinking there were more Indians that would come out of that door.

from act of demonstratiion, silent mostly but guardians of the keep and protectors of the cedar. In my heart, I’m guarded by time and combination there of I can’t make up.

this light is my heart in darkness to pick me up. I love you beyond the stars.

credit known but not my own.

With the cedar tree I leaned on, what I learnt from Greg Colfax this code is woven into me. Where people cannot speak or write lines I devote myself to this. A promise to Holm and duty to those who gave themselves a world bigger.

It is a place I can’t control but was a thing I was told that I made shapes of.

Love from roots, protection from the ground up.

weary in the wings

Remember this story I was protected by a black dog to bring this to you. You are that need at time of need. From that place you can fly higher than you will ever know, This came from a dream only I know From P and T.

Going the distance to burn a book and accept the work I do is good enough. Earned a place few will ever understand.

for the followers of this work, understand an aim to fly we can be ground or flight in mind. Just hold that vision of who you are.

Tension resolve and Dissonant

My senior year of school I went with a small group of friends to go rock climbing in eastern Washington. I had a lot of admiration for my friend Tony who taught me to play guitar. He had a lot of interests and rock climbing was one. Thirty years pass and I can see now how much I regarded him as an older brother. The person who would appreciate our place in a small town and not fit in even though my family had been on these lands long before settlement.

He wasn’t in that group but I felt I was going there to earn his respect and learn something new.

The group went out early and I had been writing on my guitar and I went out to catch up with them. It might have only been two or three miles and I thought nothing of it because I felt good as the sun was out and I had no gear on me because the group had it ahead of me.

Ovoid in the Wind

At the time my hair was half way down my back and I was unmistakable as Native. I may have only been more so if I had eagle feathers in my hair. As I recall, I was gifted a necklace from Doug Allards auction a silver pendant that screamed Indigenous. I had no shirt on and I was wearing khaki linen shorts so when I made it maybe half way and was over the hillside I saw a camper RV and an elderly white haired woman that looked as they were about to place camp.

I was about to say hello and she looked up at me and screamed “INDIAN”!!! and she trembled so much I could see it from fifty feet away. “George, it’s an INDIAN”!!!

At that instance I went thru my mind, what can I do? I had no phone on me and nothing but my shirt out of the back pocket of my shorts and my wallet. I put my hands up to show I didn’t have anything on me but the couple ran to the RV and blazed away. A big trail of dust that followed and I laughed a little to myself how surreal the experience was.

That could have gone another entirely and I could have found my end at the hill if the inclination had been driven from fear and miscommunication but it wasn’t. I feel asleep while carving and remembered that moment. Maybe because a climbing studio is around the corner of the shop and someone tracked sand into the shop. I hear gun shots from outside this place both my grandfathers once had breakfast at Alfred’s and it was a shot that woke me from my sleep on the pole.

I walked over to my rack for the first time in many years and picked up the knife that has my great uncles name carved into it. Holding in my hand a treasure no one can take, a story that cannot be made up. The time we are living in has it’s moments within them.

Confronted by a man one day outside of my studio with his daughter as I was trying to just get in my door. He was worked up and confrontational but he stood down because as much as he wanted to judge me and insult me, curious about my ethnicity, he looked over my shoulder to see a beaded feather in my car and he became a different person in that instance.

That recollection and his gesture where he patted me on the arm, I could tell he wanted to perhaps tell me to go back to where I came from in assuming I was foreign. That day I went back to climb that weekend and look at the sun come up with a small cloud that reminded me of the time I was just carving small things on the beach when I made a small decision to put my guitar away and devote myself to carving. It never meant I would never pick up a guitar or my climbing shoes, it just meant I understood if I had pursued music my life may have not been so open to opportunity.

Coldplay: Higher Speed

Hurt and healed

Somewhere in place between Birman

All these languages I’ve learned in effort to bring things together. I made a figure in memory of ancestry. We are woven together in time, I stand before myself in time where my brother told me Chris Cornell was gone but on that day in Tokyo I know that extension of love a singer went out to be there on stage, not Metallica, not Chili peppers but root of my heroes songx.

I hold his heart with mine the was young men sheltered Andrew Wood as pioneers.

A Language and nuance that shaped me, like ink in water I met this man once in Ballard, Whatever drove him to sing love and church rings in me to this day.

I’ve never done heroine and I never want to know that path but he went ahead of me to see that journey, his deliverance of song love and devotion are words not broken.

In arms without arrows aimed at me I am able to bring this sentiment back. I am just vessel for this journey and in time this word. Time will align.

Chaos and

Black is all I feel

when all the power of money was behind him, Church was within him.

In real talk looking beck on hurt and healing with song.

I come back to this thing that moved so many people, myself included.

At time of my youth before phones, I had heart of endurance.

The wind kicked up from an an idea of Andrea Grant when I walked down from the Burke Museum and I looked at this song of a black dog.

Patience remembered me and put back my hands in my pockets and remember I was no on once.

Go back to yourself we are no onc, we will be everyone someday, I sing with the lord deep in yourself you knove me. I am a chaos uncuntintained like this fluid in my vein, u should never be here.

I went on the deepest journey to recover him, all the songs I write can make not wrong.

I’m angry every day truly, I put myself into this water to find him, I was Reuben who pulled me back in this time to give me sense.

All these years I felt anger I was healed by conversation between him, my idea of of Tsa-qwa—support. and Tsawayuus.

Nothing can make that up. Alll the mud in the world can never cover up love for land., I have not paint to bring to you but I have church, only you who know, know what I say.

you have a family with great endurance, I am nothing but shelter on these arms, I ware the stripes of undurance for you with admiration because it’s a name I was granted,

No one can know this time we with one another to be who we are countless hour by the fire I hear the heart of this boy, a man in my heart and in tension of resolve going to

If I am anything I want to be a root the way flee was small but big in time from love.

All these world crash around me if I think of them but I can build myself back up in an idea that Wood is in my soul, he is not gone as much as Hendrix, love is nothing contained.

No tail has an end of story

Heart in my throat, I am with you with great endurance. I will howl in spirit of Chris and I will reach for Mark Arm. These boys gave me song. This work is inside me from a fire no one can know.

Edenshaw, Kranmar nothing is contained, these boys did the best they did to be cointainers for every with Mark Arm.

few if any all know what it is to stand on the shore. In my heart you see me now. this love and devotion was here all the time waves broke my heart, these boys had longing for your heart.

I am nothing without art, nothing without Arthur, George.

Black is all I feel..

Wisdom beyond time when I drive by a sign that remembers us, I think back to all these roots where I”m lifted up to be who I am.

Super island was a curse I ne never want to know.

take this journey with me hold this rope so you have a window into this.

If Steve Jobs is gone and I met founder of Vulcan and they can look to young boys for inspiration

I can sing with love of an arm far reaching, if I see a sign for my guitar hero who was just a Philippine boy with ambition, I can feel the wind on my face and have anger and also embrace this place that I am in. I am no one but I am everyone in great effort. If I could call back the echo of my heroes, I am here in this huch

nothing will erase me, I am forever in love with you, if you see me, few people will understand this.

if you go to the places I go, you will know yourself forever, I kept this world and imagination to hand off to you.

wolf around my collar, I see the hurt of resolve, I will stretch my arms out and weird everything in my voice for give you cover, I will be your uncle if you need be Black is all I feel, so this is how it feels to be free,

year of the rabbit

I can long for u the same was I do Jimi and this song you left run over that kept me going.

Am I indie. Whole of my heart if endurance. When people are afraid to open up, you had known to embrace gospel and take on singers larger than you, make yourself no one, This is the year of the rabbit. I can love and this place now to heal the wound long broken. I go to see you so many times over years, I cry for you and the only thing that heals me is a song, “Brother”, I see that song wishing you all the healing you need is a seed from I’ll be fore you. Nobody sings like you used to. I am here in time and the thorns pulled in my heart, you we're someone for me in the time I needed it to be. Time washes over me like colors no one can erase.

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Before Zen

the chaos of going into travel if there is that. It is.. That is the shortest sentient I know in our language I was forced to learn and it had an irony. My Native name ties too iron and my work of this subject had to do with the rails.

Long before visitors came here and I learned who I was by name. Somewhere in between I met this amazing woman. She was near my age and spoke with an amazing depth about the project and more importantly the people behind it.

The underssaaning and nuance of of relationship was vital to the project.

At pink point I, along with my language group called out the team on intention and reflection literately.

We were put at ease. I went there many nights and still do. This was a place I went to crossing tracks with my uncle who passed. I remember so many good songs and he’s the reason I include songs in every post. It’s to remind who ever takes time to read this far has a reward.

In reverse, I sat in his car most times waiting for a train to cross but I loved hearing every minute of Prince or, rival the Times. To this day I made a promise to my coolest uncle to not say his name.

So many years passed but I love him the same. The day my work was dedicated and we would sing songs again, I remember this one moment on the tracks where he turned the Prince down.

“you see those tracks boy”?

He asked me very clear

“I do uncle” in reply I gulped and didn’t know what was coming next, was he going to scold me? was hedging to do something bad?

He put his hands over mt head and shook me like a dog

“walk walk”, that is something your great auntie taught me but she doesn’t like me, but you know whaat?

“what”

I like your, and we gone make this car go son

sn eterinitt passes in my head but I remember wak wak.

Rails get hard and in those days I was fragile. He wasn’t patient but he did his best.

“boy be a man”

Walk the walk stand up be someone.!

he was a corrective officer in Puyallup. He understood very well what is was to make young men stand up but in a good way. “Life is gonna tread you and things are gonna be hard, but you gotta make yourself harder like the wheels of steel, you feel me”?

I never heard that term ‘you feel me’. That was new then and I was basically a lamb.

the train passed, he pat me on the head. He turned up the music and we laughed together again. I put my hand on his knee over the gear because I knew he would look after me and be my family.

When I was asked to do this work I had no idea the location and just jumped into 3d mode.

Despite all the hardship building up wish complications. My nephew, in passing of his grandfather, the one who was mentor to me not knowing, was able to give a land acknowledgment and call me by my Native name. Little did he know I broke the law and went into the third level to get 3d scans so I could ensure the ceremony would go as best it could.

On top of that were train schdeules but we made due.

All that said, I was able to share that beef story, my nephew opened the floor and we made good not unlike the time I waited on those very track.

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Hello, World!

only you know this walk, you were given this moment in time between us..

swells vs well

I want to say I’m ok and some days I am. Others I want to know who hurt my nephew and brother to days I shut in. We’ve been good at this, #hapa Nisei and all and it’s fine.

Like the time beyond you, Thunder crashes down.

blame, hurt, blame hurt.

new cars and houses. I’m happy for you.

In time I work up as a true belief, as poets promised to me this hero in my mind as those before me.

An artist with my shared sentiment with love.

in the hurt of my heat I want to heal you. Every wing pulled off is grown back.

boots

things I can say, not folllowing genius, no numbers my heart sieges war for art when he says

they keep pulling off you wings.

I call on two songs only I know that keep me alive. Everything you need to hear will find you.

toys are us.

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A blanket without a name...

As people recover from their empty investing on digital things. I had aimed at making NFS that were always part of our land and ways.

I started out an ant on the hill I’m half way up still looking up with a pack and a song in my heart with belief I will make it there. On the side I swallow my heart truly to know I wish I weren’t here at time at the foot of those before me.

Nothing artificial can take place of that or put that fire out. Years pass and I can see how foolish I was to think I knew more than I did when I was a young man posing as a man. Now that I am a man it calls for recognizing these things.

the cold tools I make warm again

I’ll never dance the masks I’ve had privilege to make or help on. I can know I am just a thread in the fiber of time. In between those times sitting aside my heroes with a small piece of alder in my hands often I never felt more alive or warm by being kept up into the sunrise . A strop made for me that no money could buy.

In place of an image of a match strike I insert a song.

Hello, World!

My life, so complicated in ways to know I learned a design language from a land born out of freedom that took it away from my grandparents, but even so there are those few anomalies that stand out and in that vein I have duty to write, carve and paint.

I know there is a story of a cod that swallows the moon, at this time of year I feel that.

I will never wear a blanket or dance of the families I peer but I can love the place I am in as much as my grandmother did. The reason I chose this song for this post is to know I was sent out to find this blanket stolen from our family that was entrusted to us, I can dream about the fires it danced

Without story there is no room for words. A tree fallen gave our people cause for shelter.

not a hammer or knife but qwalius

if you travel far enough and work hard enough a name is made for you. In my heart I believe this as I lean against this tree for a void that will never see a sun rise again but hurt me every day in this tool I had planned to give to him in spirit of of the mentors that taught me this way.

In the setting sun of the elders who know of the things I speak I offer this design.

A time for another night.

In good hands

I had to take a moment to realize that Kim Jung Gi is not making work for us to look to. I think the biggest part of hurt in this knowing as I have been carving and unable to contribute anything to Inktober and be removed from the illustration community I learned this from a video from that young and incredibly talented @pwnisher.

Genius captured in a moment.

In times I had no vision within myself I looked to peers and being that we are the same age, I felt that he’d accomplished so much more that I had but it made me happy not envy him. I found myself looking at and putting myself into his openness of sharing as much as I regard Miyazaki.

Years back when I was on the radio with Rob Satiacom asked about John T. Williams and that tragedy. Rob asked me about that passing when he asked about the art he wasn’t able to share with the world, in my heart words came out of my mouth as if my grandma B was inside me to answer

the art he made was a relationship for him and it was one few will understand. It is a healing for him as much as it is me in my experience.

In hindsight had I not gone to Prague to by chance meet a 3d artist who wanted to learn to sculpt beyond a screen, I would not have reconnected with my need for illustration. Ten years passed and that artist is making clay work and we can share the grief the same. Where we have no words there is music. In my favorite work of him an illustration of a Fox holding a newborn child wearing glasses.

It moved me to recall to tears sitting at my back porch a rare instance of a raccoon playing with a small pond in front of the nettles. In time I was able to see a relationship that would seem totally foreign and maybe it was. There were days I would see the jay fly into the nettles maybe looking to see if they were there.

Two beings in Western world known as aggressive but in the natural world only themselves.

into the fold you are in my heart

Hello, World!

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Like Iron in My Heart

It will take years to find you, maybe even decades but it finds its way there. I look back at simple things in film like Pulp Fiction today to know a scene and depiction of assassins that are reference as admiration, the genius of Tarantino with lens and music puts into focus the hard travels and peek behind the window what that life would be like.

Once upon a time one can imagine Vincent Vega was not a villain but a hero. Bolo tie and all. My father reflects on film as much as I do music and I remind him that Rumble was written by a Native hand and mind. In my way I hope I got to share that as much as the heart of River Phoenix was not able to serve the role of interview with a vampire. In Kobe I was able to see the sun rise and admire the moon all the same and be changed for the efforts of things that can never be taken from me and for this I feel incredible. I carry a weight of great responsibility from White Bird to harbor many things people needed to know and on this trip, my duty was done that no one can erase. Given training to sing I could make people see we are all but one in the same, only time stands between us.

Hello, World!

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Earned

I recalled a mentor saying once I would be the next Willie Seaweed. It put all fire of irons on me that weighed and me. As much as I wanted to embrace the sentiment it meant I would carry much weight.

When I learned our history and treasured what few pictures existed of us and our people. I had a handful of pictures of Morey Alexander and my grandma Bosshart.

I can’t pretend I know anything without the patience of my grandfather who sat to teach me to sketch things out and have love for architecture. In his way it was about keeping his mother alive in some way.

I share this today because years passed I can make what I make from the shoulders of many families that lift me up and even at service as alone as Ii feel I can see a face like the changer that can wipe the tears off my face and lift me up.

Steve Brown, John Haggen, Jerry ( dxwsq'ius) Jones looking over the pole at Stanwood.

his tool shape, shaped my world as much as young Doctor. I am nothing without them. When I am tired and worn I lean to this and in long years of working adzing away I came to this idea of bear mother. To make me humble.

from 7 drum this image is for the knowing.

Hello, World!

Bird of a feather

Before I was here there was the ground. Before I was here there were the animals. Before I was here there was water to feed the land to give life to the animals. From the trees fed by the waters we had a perch.

I have no clan, our people did not organize in that way. I journey was inner. It is long if you are lucky but rooted with reflection. I keep this post short today out of necessity but deep roots. Songs that give me company, that resonated with me at the time I needed them kept me alive with hope in the grasp of my hands.

As so many elders pass and youth alike that I am unable to turn a blind eye to. I was uplifted to hear old songs and see a man at the place our treaty was declared walk after much trouble with health. Be present and hug me to recognize my contribution to this world is deeply devoted.

As the smoke fills the air and impacts so many people it gave me paws to stop me in my tracks.

Look at the moon at this time and make new work that will move me forward.

A shape can mean anything to anyone and at any time. But when it sees you and takes you on, it changes you. Not unlike a song stuck in your head you hear but follows you. It can be good or bad.

Our people had to be militant at a time when I was born. Pushing back to see that the treaties written were upheld. I looked over that for a time until I sat with some who woke up those songs the kept me protected.

From connection to my roots I am moved to explore art and resistance with code.

Many languages I learned to get here, English, Japanese, Cocoa, Dreamweaver, Python.

All formed on backs of those leading to foundations that are simply aiming at the stars.

The songs that move this design and make is possible align with an understanding that I am moved by the foundation of what is a blink of an eye. But in every frame of that blink I can do my part. I reflect today on an idea that came from the Power of Now where a sentence written about time struck me.

If you ask an eagle in a tree, what time is it? The eagle would ask back what do you mean, the time is now.

Hello, World!

Hello, World!