After the End

There was a time when we didn't have anywhere to retreat. We had backed off as far as we could. We were at the end of our world and yet we were still being pushed. We made no attempt to fight anymore. The only thing left for us was our imaginations and our visions and memories of the past when we were free. My grandmother remembered it clearly. It isn't a myth or something fantasized. It was very real and very near to the old people. When I was growing up it was a very trying time. I must admit I still have feelings from my childhood problems. I was the first generation after the end of us. Painting was a way of looking at the past. It kept our dignity alive.

---Blackbear Bosin (Tsate Kongia), Comanche-Kiowa, 1921-1980