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.