I go about gathering stones. I carry them, hold them, and then – I paint them. I paint something that triggers a memory or a butterfly or a bird. It is crude, childlike painting, lacking any real talent – but while I am painting, I talk to GOD and to my Son and I “heal”. Sometimes, the stone tells me what it wants to be. While trail riding with my cherished spirit sister, I came across this stone – and it just said “buffalo”. This honors my Son’s Native American heritage and made the stone happy.