NEW Journal Entry
Rosalyn’s soft voice sung like a song in the walls of the dwelling. She spoke of her husband’s father as the medicine man and told stories of her youngest daughter as a blessing after her father’s rigid death. Her graceful presence and feminine nature felt safe, like home. Your can see the memories etched in her emerald eyes. You can feel the love for her people and the fear of what a future might look like if the true Navajo identity is lost.
Sipping black tea by the stove, we sat through loads of albums. We come across one particular image that immediately struck us.
“Is that John Wayne?”, we ask.
“Yes, and that’s little-o-me!”, Rosalyn says under muffled laughter.
The picture is of John Wayne in his usual cowboy hat holding a baby before the three major rock formations of Monument Valley, the baby was Rosalyn just shy of three years old. All scratched up with grain and light leaks from the film camera...