(This letter was postmarked on the same day. I got two envelopes on the same day. However, after reading it’s contents it was written after the previous letter.)
My Mama,
Hi there Washington! Nothing but love here in Tucson. Love I send to you in my prayers and good thoughts.
Well, I am still by myself. No cellie. It is o.k. though. I can sing to the songs form the radio and no one can hear them- except fro Jesse! J (his deceased brother)It’s probably 3 am. , but I am the best in the middle of the night. I like to think that I am the only one awake in the world. Just me and God. While others dream their journeys, I have a direct line to the moon and the stars help too.
I got a radio from this kid across the hall. I made a little sound system out of four speakers my evil cellie left me. Plus a box of batteries. There must be 50 of them. I’ve been scanning the air waves searching for techno mix. But no luck. There’s a couple of commercial songs-better than nothing.
I get side tracked easy. I am currently drawing a mud head. (type of Hopi Kachina) and a three dimensional drawing of Jesse’s name. I drew this Indian inside of an American flag. So, it’s like he’s behind bars the title is “American prison”. My democratically incarcerated friend is hanging above me. I put a couple of your pictures next to him.
There’s this song on the radio I like. The lyrics help me deal with my old relationships. “All those things I said don’t mean shit, now fuck those presents, might as well throw them out. Fuck you. Fuck all of those kisses – they don’t mean jack! You bitch- I don’t want you back.”
It makes me smile. Alright they stated playing a “glow stick mix”. What cheese! At least there’s a beat. I miss the euphoric feeling I get from raves. The music –it is all about the music. If it is a good set it is a hell of a lot better than any rock concert I’ve ever been to. Maybe it was the Ecstasy? Now I get the chills when I hear a worthy sound track. It’s like I fall into a trance. I can forget the world and live through the sound and dance. Eventually it goes away, but hearing track always protects me from everything. Even now I find myself dancing alone. I miss the way people would watch me dance. Almost like a long hair paying respect to the four directions. In life there are spectators and dancers. God is the D.J.. Demons battle us. Others just watch. But I get in the circle and dance. Of course, we win! Always! Will you dance with me? Of course you will! You started dancing with me when I was as tall as your belly button! Thanks! I guess the lessons helped (Jacob took formal dance classes for years), but you made it possible. Thanks again! J
I have growing pains in my legs. Can you believe that? I am just an overgrown leprechaun.:) (My family are small in stature and Irish, So, I’ve always called us leprechauns.)
We are going to a sweat (Native American ritual) tomorrow. I have been looking forward to it. I always say prayers for you guys- I always do but this is special! Or so I am told. We say Grandfather when we talk to God. I guess it makes since I have learned so much from my own Papa (my father). I wonder if I could have learned as much from B.C.? (his Father’s Father) Do you remember when we went to the Gila (reservation) and there was this old man there that kinda’ looked like him and he was doing that finger pointing thing like he used to do? He always called the three of us Jessecan’s. Maybe he knew more than we thought. I’m sure they are both together now.
I wrote a song fro Jesse the other day. It looks plain on paper, but when I wrote – de ja vous. It released some pain. Very graphic. I wish I could sing it for you. One day, I’ll stumble across another guitar on the freeway. I’ll make a couple of riffs up and sing it then. Did you know that me and Santana have the same birthdays? Fucking Gemini!
After reading things so fast, I can’t stop writing so many things down on paper-things that just come to me. I feel an overwhelming urge to write it. It’s very annoying especially at night. It looks disorganized. I can make since of it, that is all that matters. One day I will put them together and do something with them. I have two drawings her I front of my face. I work the same way – little by little. So, I don’t have just one to look at it. One sit down on it. I am a strange person! Maybe Chris is not the only one that needs Ritalin. J When I look at a piece of something, I know I can make it anything. It gives me the freedom to be constant, by thinking of different wave lengths, abstract with order. Is that possible? I guess, but what a mix!
Enough about me, what about you? As I write this letter I can almost hear your responses. As we are talking or do I just have split personalities? There are two sides of me though. It’s weird like I have turns inside fighting for control. If I had a twin his name would be Jesse. Great minds think alike. Isn’t that right, weirdo? J You are just as strange as any of us though, aren’t you? The nut doesn’t fall far from the tree. HA!
I hope you don’t mind me rambling. I just read some of your letters. I thought about you so….My favorite pen-pal – My mother. HA! Keep that to yourself. I am such a mama’s boy! But could you picture me being a Daddy’s boy? HA! I am just cracking my delirious ass up! I wonder if six more years of solitary confinement could drive me over the edge. Doubt it –I left the edge years ago!
So I’ve got this sample of Curve (cologne) men and women’s. It is than what I am used to smelling. And it makes me happy when I smell the women’s. It forces visions of going out in my mind. Maybe getting ready to go out- Yeah, that’s it. What a weirdo. I could picture someone smelling pieces of paper all alone and smiling. And easily think “Weirdo!”
Maybe tomorrow I will get mail- every day is another chance. What a loser! Junk mail would make me happy- Even bills!
I am going to try and sleep now. Good night Mama. I love you! See you in the morning!
I just got back form the sweat. It was a good sweat. I went for three flaps. I am tired. This old man wants me to move in with him. He is a cool person. The poor guy has cancer. He goes in a week, he hopes, to get a an operation on his colon. I hope he is alright. This guy from Salt River (reservation) also wants me to move over there. This Hopi guy wants me over there too. I never knew I was so popular!
I am also kind of nervous too. I was told by the head- that any other yard I go to I will have a jacket of being a “Divè brother”. There’s three prison gangs for native in the system. This yard is ran by the Divè. Warrior Society is on most yards. Right now there is a war going on between the two. When I leave this yard and go to a W.S. (Warrior Society) yard, I will have problems. Bad problems. I probably will get shanked. Which sucks because it is not like I asked to come here.
The brother’s on this yard want me to run with them. If I did, I would get protections from anything that could happen. The Hopi guy is getting his patch and I don’t know what to do. These brothers are good. I am told on other yards W.S. makes you go to every meal – they don’t allow speaking to other races and will smash you for any reason. If you don’t do what they tell you to do, then you are against them.
These brothers just want to do their time. If something happens with another race, they ask that we backup our brothers regardless of their affiliation. I respect that. If one of my brothers got into an altercation, I would back them up regardless. But I don’t think I will get political. I am just here to do my time. That’s what I will say. And if any brothers from another yard want beef- I will say the same thing. I will take my chances and play it safe. That is what I would tell my son. So, that is what I’ll do. I like thinking like that, ”What would I want my son to do?”
Today while I was blessing myself in the circle, I took a puff for the four directions and on the last one-south. I held up the pipe and looked into the sky. Just then I saw a hawk cross my vision. I thought of Jesse and got the chills. He heard my prayers- at least someone did. I like to think it was Jesse.
Everyone likes the tattoo on my chest. I do too! I drew the design, so I had better! The nipple hurt! (Here He drew a picture of himself with the tattoo) I know. I know. But they said that it made me look like a futuristic Indian from 2025. But I am a futuristic Indian! 2025 isn’t that far off. Anyway it made me smile ‘cause that’s what I was going for! J Well, I am beat. It was hot today. I’m going to lay down. Talk to you in a bit.
Well, I can’t sleep so- they just called chow so I will continue with my ramblings later.
Well, solitude has given me an epiphany! I am so fucking jazzed right now J I am superbly proud of my brain. I only have one problem- no degrees. In order for this to work I will need the following: radioin broadcasting, business management, marketing, advertising, business Communication, corporate management, marketing and sales.
After struggling to hear KTNN- Navajo radio- on a.m. and hearing the Hopi radio, I thought why don’t the Pima’s have a radio station? “It’s obvious”, I thought. “Too small.” Then I said there’s two Pima reservations surrounding the East Valley. That’s a pretty big area from point to point- but what about the Salt River? Fort McDowell- where my nightmare began. Well, what about the Westside –Gila River goes allthe way out to 31st Ave. and Maricopa goes even further. Well, what if there was a co-op between the reservations – all put into one voice? Transistors could be placed. And the radio waves could be heard throughout the valley – it would be a strong signal no doubt. REZZradion was born in my brain! The biggest $ makers on the reservations are Casinos – what if they could have regular commercials for their separate enterprises?
The main purpose for granting a business grant is to bring jobs and money back to the res. – what a better way? Advertise native owned products and services on native radio. The beauty part of it is that It will be heard off the res.! I f I could work it right now. Full Valley exposure broadcasting from Indian Land. J
I would like to look back on my life and say, “ I started a radio station once”. Just to get it started up and on the air would make me the speaker for the dead. At least unheard we could play everything. So people for every walk of life could listen in. Broadcasting horizons for people through music is easy.:)
How impressive would that be on a resume? I could play anything native: bands, rappers, musicians, my favorite D.J.’s J Do you know of a rapper named ludicriss? He used to be an on air personality in Atlanta. He would just rap sometimes and play some of his tracks- Damn! Millionaire, doing what he loves. Remind you of anyone? No- not me – You! J
Anyways I love music and hope to be bring drum and bass to the “mainstream” in America – by doing it myself. All I need is a computer and a couple of turntables- Bam! I want to “mix” a heavy metal band with a D.J. and a drummer and someone to sing and someone to rap, two guitars and one bass. For different songs, we switch instruments. All the while me – the D.J. keeps the crowd moving with my beats!
So much to live for J. Thank you for listening Mama. I say prayers for you. I am still here-not going anywhere. I will love you forever. Thanks for giving me life and for my brothers. I love you.
Mr. Charlie
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