The place where I live was once the home of a people known as the Shawnee. They have long since been removed to places other than the land which they and their ancestors inhabited for thousands of years. All that remains of them is a few arrow heads and artifacts throughout the river valleys, as well as the tribe's name on a few local institutions. As for the people and their culture, for the most part, there is virtually nothing left.
There is an empty field which once was the site of a Shawnee village, It is now just that, an empty field. I often pass by, and have a feeling of sadness as though there is something missing. Almost as if nature itself calls out for these people. They should be here, their culture should be something that everyone here should be able to experience. I should be able to go to a local restaurant and find a meal of traditional cuisine, prepared by those with the tradition. I probably should avoid pondering what should be.
This painting is coming along rather slow, and is being built up in layers. I still have a long way to go, but hope that it will be finished appropriately, one day soon.