In The Beginning Was The Word, And

My Father Was A Painter And He Taught Art. He Once Said To Me, 'i Never Knew An Indian Child Who Could Not Draw.'

Words Were Medicine; They Were Magic And Invisible. They Came From Nothing Into Sound And Meaning. They Were Beyond Price; They Could Neither Be Bought Nor Sold.

Once In His Life A Man Ought To Concentrate His Mind Upon The Remembered Earth. He Ought To Give Himself Up To A Particular Landscape In His Experience; To Look At It From As Many Angles As He Can, To Wonder Upon It, And Dwell Upon It.

Anything Is Bearable If You Can Make A Story Out Of It.

A Word Has Power In And Of Itself. It Comes From Nothing Into Sound And Meaning; It Gives Origin To All Things.