by Gwagwagwe
It's been two moons since our escape from Kettles Creek farm. I say escape because like the time with dream twitcher of stories past the bison were again victims of a charlatan. At our last communiqué we were working our asses off, 14 hour days, sweat and blood being pored into that majestic farm. We we're convinced that we were at the beginning of the dream we had began our quest to find. A way to make a living that included all members of the community of life around us. Yet there was more. Those who follow our adventures must have been suspicious that we had not mentioned the spiritual aspects of our time on the farm. We were asked not to share that information, the person who "owned" that place was afraid that it would attract to many kooks. Quinn brought us to that place, the Quinn network was how Jackson Sheppard (Jack to those he has fooled) [name changed by webmaster] found us and invited us out for an internship. We spent many a night thanking the great spirit, the elemental spirits, and Grandfather and Grandmother inside a very powerful sweatlodge, we had feast in honor of the spirits of that place. Yes we we're (or though we we're) practicing true animist rituals. These are the one thing we felt was missing in our grand adventure. We are novice animists, always looking for others who are more experienced, or at least equally dedicated to creating the rituals that mold our new culture and tribal unit. So when Jack offered us both the work to fill our experiential needs, the work that put us in the middle of something bigger than ourselves, and the spiritual rituals that brought (or supposedly put) us a fulfilling methodology we were quite excited. Thing went well for 5 moons. The vegetable and tobacco plants were growing and flourishing under our care, the community (both human and non human) had begun to hold us closer. Then the darkness began. First the rituals ended, Jack decided the Great spirit was not ready to hear our prayers, he decided that decision making would not be through consensus, then he decided to use the trust we had begun to give him could be used as power to control both the human and non human community of life around us. Needless to say disaster struck. During the construction of a huge barn/intern living quarters the walls collapsed almost killing many people including our brother from the Hinkle clan who had graciously came out from Indian country to help in the construction. It was a surreal sight bloody men and ambulances flowing through the green fields and two hundred year old oak stands. We did not flinch, we had given our word to carry through with our dream even in the darkest of times, so we stayed on. Two days after the accident, we arose to find Jackson Sheppard beating Ladybird (a four-legged that we had come to love very much). How could a person who proclaims animist doctrine use his power to beat a chained four-legged, we were crushed, our dreams were crushed, and we we're gone within twenty minutes, never to return. Our wounds will heal, and we will still not return to our misanthropic ways, but the wall between truth and reality weaken considerably. Again we returned to Indian country where Penny went to work for the Absentee Shawnee Tribe and Gwagwagwe began remodeling a dream home for a family friend. We moved onto a small piece of land near Noble, OK where we sit and wait for another message from the community of life. Thanks to all who have helped us get through another grand but disappointing adventure. The bison are strong and will follow their quest until the end of their days.
Gwagwagwe of the Bison Band
A Small Part of the new tribal revolution.
B-well Be-B.