For Fifteen years the Talking Stick has featured many Native American Tribal writers, actors, directors, and artists. I have been given the honor to be the final guest editor for this... click here for more...

The following statement is taken from the 10th Anniversary edition of Talking Stick, and remains reverent today. “I first visited New York City in the very late seventies. I was invited by the writer Ishmael Reed to be part of an historic multicultural gathering... click here for more...

AMERINDA has published print and on-line editions of TALKING STICK Native Arts Quarterly continuously, for over 15 years. At this time we have decided to stop publication but the body of work will continue to be available on line at www.amerinda.org/talkingstick. During this time we have had the opportunity to... click here for more...

As we hear the news that the play Bloody Bloody Andrew Jackson is closing its short run on Broadway, the collective exhale of relief surges through the Indian community here in New York and nationally. Some of our people claim it is karma, others poetic justice, a few said bad medicine, but something else may... click here for more...

I become a snake, a cobra now licking all the world’s wounds my body beckoning the invisible domain of memory knowing it all comes down to knowing... click here for more...

Musicians Buffy Sainte-Marie, Brule, Star Nayea, filmmaker Chris Eyre and newspaper publisher Paul DeMain...all have something in common. They are all adoptees, raised by white families, and all are unquestionably Indigenous... click here for more...

Last night I dreamed a small bird migratory rush into a brushline nearby. One of indiscriminate color, broke cover, flew fast past the seige, directly into my open hand... click here for more...

Sandhill cranes rise into spiraled kettles, their mares purring chortling kettling vortex siege sedge herd. Vortexing themselves into dawn, dusk. Call & response. Call & response. Call & response. Call & response... click here for more...

columbus endures as an old lady in the park she wears robes and smells woolly of moth balls and gum columbus endures as an old lady she trudges... click here for more...

east the whole moon burns behind jamestown seven wings of geese light the thin ice west the asian sun bloody on the interstate spring flowers... click here for more...

The song spilling seeds into your mouth sunflowers a yield sign crawls onto the roof pinching corn meal, flickers green and quakes into a babble of crows... click here for more...