2009 Acrylic on 140 lb. watercolour paper 24×30″
From Native American series
The Dismantling of The Native was Featured in
First Things Group 29 Nov 09
When I was a young boy living on the open range with my grandparents in Montana, my grandpapa would always take me to the trading post just outside of town.
There were always men, with dark reddish skin with tall hats with feathers in them with their hand always sticking out to us as we would walk into the store. My grandpapa was a tough old cuss, as he had fought in the Mexican Revolution, starting at the age of 14. He would always tell me….. show no fear to these people but always show them honor and respect for this land used to be theirs, I never knew what he meant then.
But on the way out he would always hand them money and tobacco…….I remember he always carried a loaded colt .44 in his belt under his coat. and would sleep with it under his pillow.
As I painted this painting it brought back memories of him and those long ago and far away days in Montana, as he has being gone for 30 years now. My Grandmama (you remember her she loves Wild Roses) went the same year not too long after he left us. although sometimes I tell you I can feel his presence strange like that.