There’s no history in these fields. There’s no life left in these little communities. Trash bags collect along the fence lines. Broken bottles lay scattered across the open prairies. This place is meant for cattle and the oppressive boot of realism. Out here we must create our own fiction, our…

My dad’s name was Art. I don’t believe that that had anything to do with me becoming an artist. Names are strange. Coincidences can get pretty weird from time to time. If you combine my first and middle name in English it’d read “The Gift of God: Sorrow”. That’s a…

Dreams and a Few Short Stories

I’ve seen little glimpses of something bigger than myself. I think about them a lot. I’ve cried after seeing a few, just out of gratitude. You’re not allowed to see these types of things a lot of the time. There’s always some sort of…

I think a lot about life. Guess it’d be more accurate to say that I worry a lot about life. I look back and think we’ve missed something along the way. Think we missed a whole lot along the way and I’m worried that we can’t ever get it back…

A lot of people have died over the last decade. I got a call at midnight a few months back. My uncle decided that life wasn’t really all that kind to him so he checked out early. That’s the easiest way to say it. I’d like to give you a…

It was January 3rd, 2011.

It’s an easy date to remember. Right after New Years.

We couldn’t find any smoke — and folk who say smoke ain’t a gateway drug are lying to themselves.

Some of us have a silent dragon stalking us our entire lives — and it wants…

A phone call at two in the morning.
A grumbled voice, a stern voice.
An angry voice.

“Yeah.”

“Hey. Pops…”

The old man’s pissed.

“Hey shit. What happened? I told you there was a storm coming.”

“Yeah.

“Yeah you did.

“You sure did.”

You can hear him wipe the crust…

Hunting wasn’t as noble an experience as it’s portrayed by some folk. We weren’t out there in the wilderness set up in tents. We weren’t hiking up mountains in search of longhorn sheep and we damn sure didn’t use every part of the animals we killed. That noble savage shit…

We have a carnival every year out in Rosebud South Dakota. I haven’t gone in over a decade. It’s not really my scene. I don’t really have much to say to my extended family these days. If I can’t leave the reservation I’ll distance myself from as many people here…

S. Deloria Black Wolf

Usually paint or draw, sometimes I write.

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