Like a Salmon, slowly flopping through the desert.

Did you know that I am going to go to Arizona?
It is true! I am going to see my Dad.
I am really excited about this trip.
I am not excited about the plane ride, but unless you have a better way to get there
then you should shut your mouth.
Besides, it is too late to change anything now since I already got the tickets.

But you know how I said how I am so excited?
Well, there are some people around here that are not excited.
Or at least, that is the impression I get when I overhear their conversations.

But I told them I said "Eat my shorts!".
Then I said the thing about it being too late because we already got our tickets and shit.
So zip it!!

I am going to bake in the sun.
I am going to hike, and fire a rifle.
There will be fires and food.
There will probably not be swimming, but who cares?
It is not the Indian Way.
At least, it is not the Arizona Indian Way.

You know, I live with this sort of weird feeling about my Indian side.
I don't know if it is guilt, I think it is a little bit of that.
But also just a hole that exists.
I try to fill the hole, but it seems too vast and deep for anything that I can do on my own.
It is one of the main reasons I draw and paint, and for
the most part that is the best I can do, and it usually helps a lot.

But when I am near my Dad, when I am on his turf, I feel different.
I feel like I am doing a thing that feels like the right thing to do.
Like a big piece of the puzzle.

The Reservation.
I didn't even grow up there.
I was mainly just born there.
I don't know my way around.
I don't speak the language.
I only really think about it.
That is about all that it exists as to me.
As a thought.

But when I think about going there, I get really excited.
How can it be that a place where I have spent hardly any time could have such a pull?
And what is it that is pulling me?
The Universal Force?
The thought of a dying language?

I will do some research while I am there, and I will report back what I find.

lomatewh