Only Words

Story:  She knew nothing except how to believe, nothing other than what had been shown to her and what was alive within her. She was too pale and her eyes were wrong, and her hair was wrong. It wasn't dark and shiny, it was the sun and ripe wheat. What could she know of Indian things, her skin was all wrong. The whispers of her Ancestors turned her face from the hardness and they kissed her hair with the wind. "Only words child, only words."

Dedicated to Indigenous women everywhere who struggle with lateral violence. 

Medium: Watercolor on Arches cold press paper

Signed original work with Certificate of Authenticity and story.

18" x 22" NOTE: Unframed