Animals Dengulata Videos
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ÂUTAH: I contemplated what my career could mean as I sat inside at an all-night meeting tent on a three-legged table for thirty hours. Would people evolve to recognize my work as art? Would they recognize my intentions enough to write about them? As human habitats grew and replaced the planet's natural habitats, would people recognize I was creating an art-form? Would they have any idea why I was asking them to contribute to it? I knew the answers holding steady, they are no, no, no and no. It was a standing game of one-upmanship between the environment -- for lack of a better term -- and me. The environment, which had always spoken through people, was now a spectator; the game was no longer played with, it was played to. The game played to, the environment -- which was all that ever existed -- was now the game. The game that continues as long as people keep living and breathing, the game that I was determined to be a player in. I argued to myself that it was no way to put yourself on the same level as the world. It was no way to evoke an ethic. This is why I continued to sweat and shake. I knew it was a dangerous game, but I played it anyway. I hoped in a way that they would see my sweat as a sign that I had been doing the game too long to back out now; I could no longer back down. This game could not be played to. This game had only one way to go.
Soon, when I was a teenager, I discovered the silent, interior world of American Indian Americana. Through the Bucky Boys, I found the perfect conduit to that world. The first Bucky Boy was titled Bucky Boy No. 87, and was drawn in 1937 by an artist I had never heard of called Howard Pyle, after the famous American illustrator and Presidential candidate of the same name. He presented his drawing, entitled The Taming of the West, in full color on the front cover of a Halloween issue of the New Yorker. In the drawing, a dead Indian lies dead on the ground, his hands tied. A dead bull and a dead horse lie dead on the ground. An Indian boy stands over the dead Indians. The boy has a tomahawk in his hand. "Nice Bucky Boy," I thought. d2c66b5586