wild embers press

NEW BOOK!! Ghost RIder Roads ORDERING/INFO

2012-02-07T10:32:00.000-08:00

Ghost Rider Roads

collected by/antoinette nora claypoole

about the American Indian Movement

ORDER HERE

visit amazon.com

also available at any bookstore (just tell them distributed by Ingram)

Contributors include:

Ben Carnes, Judy Gumbo Albert, Delaney Bruce/LPDOC, Robert Robideau....and antoinette nora claypoole interviews with Vernon Bellecourt, John Graham & a mini with John Trudell

PRAISE for

Ghost Rider Roads (Wild Embers, 2012)

collected/by antoinette nora claypoole

“Ghost Rider Roads is a highly comprehensive book of American Indian History. This work is a series of stories that are a brilliant, detailed, lively history of American Indians in their struggles to stay alive. A book for those who want to hear first-hand accounts of what has happened, and continues to happen, in Indian Country.

Very powerful. antoinette nora claypoole sings the song she learned in her dreamtime.”

--Brian Frisina aka Raven Redbone

producer/host Make No Bones About It, Olympia, Wa.

Ghost Rider BOOK REVIEW (Feb. 4, 2012) by Al Fenicle

About Ghost Rider Roads

American Indian Movement 1971-2011

A collection of work compiled/created by antoinette nora claypoole, Ghost Rider Roads chronicles the American Indian Movement’s history, controversy and current demands for the release of Leonard Peltier, an old AIM warrior, and political prisoner of the U.S. Ghost Rider Roads chronicles antoinette's work /sojourn in and through the American Indian Movement (AIM) over the past two and a half decades and is dedicated her old friend/uncle, Dave Chief, Lakota (1929-2005), Oglala Lakota.

This project was initially a collaboration between antoinette nora claypoole and AIM activist Robert Robideau (RIP). His sudden death in Barcelona, Spain (Feb. 2009) created a gap in the project, which is now, finally, healed. Writings, previously unpublished, about early AIM, written by Robideau--stories he intended to have in the collection--are included. Over 500 pages long, the project also includes antoinette's previously unpublished "mini" interview with John Trudell (early 1990's), her Anna Mae Aquash murder trial coverage (2004-2011), writings by Delaney Bruce of the Peltier Defense Offense Committee, a news piece about the FBI shootout on Pine Ridge by infamous “yippies” Judy Gumbo and Stew Albert (1975) and current essays by Ben Carnes, Choctaw AIM activist. Black and white graphics by Dan Wahpepah, Ojibway. To read the "Prologue" by antoinette nora claypoole-- "why the book"--click here.

*~*~*~*~

About antoinette nora claypoole’s

ride through Indian Country

“antoinette came from back East before the Freedom of Religion Act, before the changes for Indian Children in the Child Welfare System. Back in the late 1970’s. When she came to Oregon they were still arresting Indians in small towns. She started working on Indian rights when it was not popular to be Indian. It takes a very special person to do that kind of thing.”

--Ed Little Crow, Dakota

about her book Ghost Rider Roads (2012, Wild Embers Press)

Very powerful. antoinette nora claypoole sings the song she learned in her dreamtime.”

--Brian Frisina aka Raven Redbone

producer/host Make No Bones About It, Olympia, Wa.

about her first book Who Would Unbraid her Hair: the legend of annie mae (1999, dist. Clear Light Books, Santa Fe, N.M. out of print)

“Who Would Unbraid Her Hair; the legend of annie mae is investigative poetry at its best. Epic. Most beautiful. Soul love. antoinette’s voice moves to a profoundly anonymous place, breaks through to the collective psyche...honoring warrior, woman, children of all nations, with clear resounding mythical verse....only love can come from this book.”

--Sharon Doubiago

Oregon Book Award winner; author of My Father’s Love

“Ms. claypoole seems to have done something no one else apparently can do--certainly not the academics or the people involved: she looks at it all from outside and yet enters this world that is not herself. Through an act of love the philosophers and Keats called einfuhlung.

anoinette nora claypoole's book should be reprinted immediately (i write in late 2010). If Peter Matthiessen's great book {In the Spirit of Crazy Horse} can go years off the shelves because of a South Dakota injunction, hers needs to go on the same shelves. And Leonard Peltier needs to be freed. In brief, you could only write this book out of a deep and abiding love.”
--Floyce Alexander, poet
former editor Univ. of New Mexico Press

~*~*~*~*~

email us if you need help setting up book ordering account

want a tribal/education discount code

or would like to arrange an author reading/event

connect

watersongs@gmail.com

CHECK OUT the boo k

ORDER BOOK HERE

Ghost Rider Roads reviewed in RoundTree online zine

2012-02-07T10:30:00.000-08:00

"The late sixties and early seventies were a time unlike any other in Native American history. For the first time a nationwide indigenous network was born, an American Indian Movement.

AIM first entered the collective conscious on Thanksgiving Day, 1970 by seizing a replica of the Mayflower in Boston Harbor. The Trail of Broken Treaties, the retaking of land in Minneapolis for a schoolhouse, the standoff at Wounded Knee – it was a momentous time in history, comprised of real people and real stories.

Ghost Rider Roads tells those stories. Author Antoinette Nora Claypoole weaves a tale consisting of interviews and written reflections and her own assignments for Pacifica Radio in Los Angeles to make those times come alive for the reader. If these events are new to you, this book will take you back in time. If you were around then, this will bring back the memories and fill in the blank spots."

-- Al Osori from Roundtree book review (Feb. 4, 2012)

HOME

Ghost Rider Roads NOW AVAILABLE!!

2012-01-30T13:07:00.000-08:00

Ghost Rider Roads

collected by/antoinette nora claypoole

about the American Indian Movement

ORDER HERE

visit amazon.com

also available at any bookstore (just tell them distributed by Ingram)

Contributors include:

Ben Carnes, Judy Gumbo Albert, Delaney Bruce/LPDOC, Robert Robideau....and antoinette nora claypoole interviews with Vernon Bellecourt, John Graham & a mini with John Trudell

PRAISE for

Ghost Rider Roads (Wild Embers, 2012)

collected/by antoinette nora claypoole

Very powerful. antoinette nora claypoole sings the song she learned in her dreamtime.”

--Brian Frisina aka Raven Redbone

producer/host Make No Bones About It, Olympia, Wa.

Ghost Rider BOOK REVIEW (Feb. 4, 2012) by Al Fenicle

About Ghost Rider Roads

American Indian Movement 1971-2011

*~*~*~*~

About antoinette nora claypoole’s

ride through Indian Country

--Ed Little Crow, Dakota

about her book Ghost Rider Roads (2012, Wild Embers Press)

Very powerful. antoinette nora claypoole sings the song she learned in her dreamtime.”

--Brian Frisina aka Raven Redbone

producer/host Make No Bones About It, Olympia, Wa.

about her first book Who Would Unbraid her Hair: the legend of annie mae (1999, dist. Clear Light Books, Santa Fe, N.M. out of print)

--Sharon Doubiago

                                                                    Oregon Book Award winner; author of My Father’s Love

“Ms. claypoole seems to have done something no one else apparently can do--certainly not the academics or the people involved: she looks at it all from outside and yet enters this world that is not herself. Through an act of love the philosophers and Keats called einfuhlung.

anoinette nora claypoole's book should be reprinted immediately (i write in late 2010). If Peter Matthiessen's great book {In the Spirit of Crazy Horse} can go years off the shelves because of a South Dakota injunction, hers needs to go on the same shelves. And Leonard Peltier needs to be freed. In brief, you could only write this book out of a deep and abiding love.”
                                                                                                                                                   --Floyce Alexander, poet
                                                                                                                  former editor Univ. of New Mexico Press

~*~*~*~*~

email us if you need help setting up book ordering account

want a tribal/education discount code

or would like to arrange an author reading/event

connect

watersongs@gmail.com

CHECK OUT the boo k

ORDER BOOK HERE

BUY Books from Embers

2011-11-19T01:13:00.000-08:00

WILD EMBERS menu/info...here

connect to ask about tribal & trade discounts!!

watersongs@gmail.com

Dreaming of a True World, A Opchine Wala Ohkon by Ed Little Crow, Lakota/Dakota

AVAILABLE NEW RELEASE!!

January 2012

Ghost Rider Roads
American Indian Movement 1971-2011
collected/by antoinette nora claypoole

ORDER HERE !!!

OLD TITLES
click on title, to order!

la Puerta Taos, the art of fetching Sky (Vol.1 bl/white)

la Puerta Taos, the art of fetching Sky (Vol. 2, full color)

Lost in the Chamiso by Amalio Madueno

Ghost Rider Roads collected/by antoinette nora claypoole

advance, FREE REVIEW copy, available

HOMEwww.createspace.com/3353329

GHOST RIDER ROADS EXCERPTS

2011-07-31T13:33:00.000-07:00

BUY BOOK

CLICK HERE

for excerpts, details and

info about FREE review copies

and excerpts....here

Embers Books at Gaia Festival Aug 5-7 !!

2011-07-06T12:37:00.000-07:00

Wild Embers will be hanging out at Gaia Festival Aug. 5-7 ... at the old Hog Farm (circa woodstock era) in N. California...

we'll feature NEW second edition of Ed Little Crow's A Opchine Wala Ohkon and NEW RELEASE Ghost Rider Roads... collected essays and other realities from old AIM Years, ...including work by Ben Carnes, Judy Gumbo Albert, Barry Bachrach & Robert Robideau (RIP).....

for Dave Chief, Lakota (1930-2005)

2011-06-22T12:03:00.000-07:00

excerpt from Ghost Rider Roads

collection of work from my years with members of the American Indian Movement (AIM). To be released this Autumn. 2011.

This story of Dave Chief, an old AIM guy, key Elder who worked for the freedom of Leonard Peltier (wrongfully convicted AIM member, still in prison). And offered a "Wiping of the Tears" ceremony for Annie Mae Aquash back in the late 1990's.

Dave was an uncle to me for a long time, in Ashland, Or., during what we called the "find your husband years". We laughed alot in those times. His smile, medicine, still.

"Man of BIg Smile"
by antoinette nora claypoole

dedicated to Dave Chief, Lakota (1930-2005)

some of this happens just before hotmail.

before digital reality and homeland security

without cameras inside the safeway grocery store.

There was a photo of him on the trailer wall. It was inside one of those woolworth picture

frames. With a flimsy aluminum clasp on the back. A color photo enlarged and slightly blurry.

This was a time of no drive through espresso but after drive in movies. He was in a couple scenes of the movie. About Indians. And the photo was him. All wrapped in a buffalo robe smiling bigger than life has been for a very long time. His smile is eternal. It has become a petroglyph inside my heart. There is no other way to start the story.

His wife at the time had some problems lifting the cast iron pot of stew from the stove to

the table. It was good that I was there. Then. In the trailer. In the closet sized kitchen.
Making fry bread.

Cause he said with a buffalo robe smile "Where've you been. Over there with your husband?" pointing to the fake wood panel board wall. And the 5 and dime photo frames hanging like wayward men on the frontier of some foreign woman's body.

There was also a smaller picture of a handsome young man hanging right there next to him. I could barely recognize my lover. Not because it was a black and white and he is red but because he was so young. The old man pointed to the Indian who lived next to him his was not a movie shot.

"Your husband, ennit?"

“No.” I replied quietly “I wish” I wanted to say.

But “ no. not my husband.”

Somebody I see and love but lord above the father of my son has still got my heart. In some kind of a science experiment jar. Sitting on a shelf shaking it. Turning it all around to see it from all angles. Rarely even opens the lid. But the old man now he knows that I have been seen with the once a young warrior. And believes I am his wife.

It is that simple. In his world.

And I am glad to be lifting stew pots off the stove in that trailer. I imagine my husband will arrive. One day. Living in this way. We have a pipe ceremony that night. The old man who died last June he speaks alot of Lakota. Took the time to teach some of these young guys the old songs. There is a drum. Like there always is. The glass on the photos doesn't break. He liked being in that movie. We watch it sometimes and his wife fast forwards and rewinds so we can see his face in the scene by the river.

There is even that pause button where we all freeze and google eyes at the old man sitting next to us who is on the tv screen in the movie. There are two of him in the room and he loves that and so do we.

Just the other night I turned my television on. It has been in storage for 4 years. The set opened to a movie. A scene by a river. Indians. Fighting. Wild war calls. There he was. The old man. who died. Bigger than life. I cried all night. Because he is here but his first year is not over. I can barely say his name. For fear of calling him from his important journey. His trip might be bumpy. Maybe like the flight to new haven and we met at the airport and I got him coffee and we smoked pall malls to make sense of the white fights ensuing. Maybe not. Might be he beamed in to remind me of the lover we both knew. The one he called my husband. Or could be his wife down south is ill. And he wants me to find her. Help her. There are so many things that happen on the red road. I admit. I am like the woman in last of the Mohicans. I refuse an English army officer white man my hand in marriage. Every time. Because I dig wild and free and being glad to be inside Indian Country is politically incorrect to say.

But it is true.

My uncle died this year. And I don't believe he is gone. And I don't feel

anything some days. The rain floods the picnic table. The sunflower seeds

get soggy and if the cops come I make them take off their boots before

they walk in. Weapons pulled. They might run into my Lakota uncle warrior

while roaming my kitchen. Or flashing their lights into corners of my soul.

Uncle did time for running guns after the BIA takeover. And he will tell them a

story. About how photographs of people and movies about Indians are as important as protecting a woman without a husband. But the sun is not out today. He used to be married to me.

When I walked from the wash to camp at Big Mountain I’d always say

"I’m looking for my husband" and people would ask “Is he by the fire.?”

I’d say “ I don't know. I mean i don't know where he is. I haven’t met him yet. Am i am

still looking for him.”

Some people would laugh. Others ran fast.

And Dave would laugh. At that story. Every time. He and Dorothy got married at Big Mountain. That was a good sign in my mind. The rain makes fog over the watershed and no one really knows where the picture of buffalo robe ended up.

Parris Island Love... new work click here

2011-05-16T00:35:00.000-07:00

... spring 2011 ...poesia stories by antoinette nora claypoole

2011-03-22T16:53:00.000-07:00

nEw...
published in Wilderness House Review, New England Literary Journal
Jan. 2011

"Sassing Back: Rewriting the Politics of Incest"

by antoinette nora claypoole

A Book review of Sharon Doubiago’s My Father’s Love, Vol. 1

“The Lone Ranger is still coming across the purple sage. America in her mask. The mask they wore to nurse you. The masks you and your sister wore posing for the camera. Behind the mask is a girl with breasts...we sleep in the Petrified Forest...” (pg. 235).

by antoinette nora claypoole

We arrive in Long Beach, Ca. inside another time. Almost feeling the sea winds inside the old Ford. As the handsome man, his “gorgeous wife” move into the American way. We trek through the landscape of a family caught between nuclear, and extended. Between a toxic wasteland and vast compassion. America. Of the 1940’s and 50’s. This is where Sharon Doubiago takes us, Southern California the backdrop, small living rooms and side streets with “hobos” the set. But. It’s not Hollywood. It’s not even surfer girls. Yet. The characters in this true place carry a painful, universal story of exploitation. Incest and rape.

Poignantly, provocatively written by poet Sharon Doubiago—Oregon Literary Arts Award winner/Univ. of Pittsburgh Press prodigy—Father’s Love is neither a reflection of the once trendy, incest victim/malice nor an American sojourn into a glamorized, western, “Golden State”. Of forgiveness. Rather Doubiago’s first volume of this book (Vol. 2 pub. Feb. 2011) is an intersection of where we’ve been. And where we long to be. An expression of how a young girl, an American woman can and does love and simoultaneously defy father/men, sisters/mother, despite the cultural designs of being christened a daddy’s “girl”. Despite being expected to birthday a man who can rape and claim the name of love. Created with tender, poignant vulnerabilities, Doubiago inspires a revival of innocence stolen with literary and actual photos of her family, her self, her longing, included in the book.

Yet. Rather than a rally of hate and loathing often found in varied genres of incest literature, this poetic prose expose—not quite memoir (happily), not ever fiction---reveals, as the subtitle promises, a “ Portrait of a Poet as Young Girl”. Doubiago, both muse and historian in this book, depicts with a reverent, oblique love the impact and immaculate deception of the American Dream. Reveals the cowardice of a “loving” father, the betrayal of sister/mother bonds—all with candor and a tender paradox of longing. A longing for connection which ever -informs the detailed, graphic images of a corruption her family--so many of our families--bred/breed.

Despite evidence of incest tucked between “the red bricks outside our front door”. Despite beauty betrayed at a young age via “garage dates” with daddy-- Doubiago brings us My Fathers’ Love while delicately clutching nasturtiums gathered from the cliffs upon which she was born. Yes. She bears roses in her heart. Thorns, yet blooms intact. Petals strewn for us to discover. A pathway to truth in our own lives. She is the finest guide we can imagine to navigate, to survive the feverish climb. Had Sylvia Plath read My Father’s Love she might still be with us, doctored by Doubiago’s poetic candid courage. Seizing, drinking stories which free twisted lies from death due to silencing, Father’s Love is the sculpting of a young woman’s psyche. And a freedom from it’s corruption. By place and people who have the American Dream etched into their daily rivets, Rosie of WW II not far from their vocabulary.

The 1940’s beaches, the mid 20^th century places, the Ramona, California of the book resound with memories Doubiago has etched and woven with the threads of western, Americana innocence. Still yearning to return. She tells of place--literal and figurative-- where being “woman”, being girl child is the motherlode of fathers and all others who seize the doctrine of consuming, owning, all that stands in the way of beauty. Repeatedltly, just as in the minds of those who have survived it, just as the act of incest lives in flashbacks of “real life” each day, Doubiago tells of a place where innocence is a commodity. In Douabiago’s words, her stories, her chronicles of childhood as a an oldest daughter of a simple “daddy mommy” family living the 1940’s and 50’s of S. California. She talks incest in seductive, intriguing yet harsh, tales of ancestry.

Still. Hers is not the anger rant nor the victim chime of loss deconstructed by other “incest” chronicles and writers. Rather Doubiago writes for us a valentine etched into nearly every page of this epic deliverance into a landscape of pain. A song in her genius, poetic storytelling, Doubiago casts a spell over us, the redear, as she weaves this delicate and honest tale of conquest, of sex and being sexed as a young girl. In the name of love Doubiago writes in her most resounding voice to date—surpassing her classic A Book of Seeing with One’s Own Eyes--a tale which is elixir for those of us straining to understand how we have come to love all who have taken our innocence as commodity, have tasted our beauty and “smacked snot” on our hearts.

“I don’t want to run away. I want to stay in my family forever, at least until the confusions are cleared up and they know I’m not jealous and they know how much I love them” (pg 110).

Valentines are more than metaphor in this book.

A confused young adolescent Doubiago painfully describes her first valentine from a crush, in sixth grade. Having already been raped by “daddy”—who was born on Feb. 14th—the images of confusion about love are set.

Doubiago shares with those of us women young enough to still be here and old enough to write the 60’s, courage to prevail. She knows. How many times we have been called liars by those sisters and brothers, mothers and aunties, afraid to speak truth. Naming us “exaggerators” so they can alleviate their fear of facing truth. Doubigao depicts this betrayal phenomena with as much importance as the act of rape itself. That is, in My Father’s Love we not only sojourn a taboo with unique tender intensity, but we are driven to lace up our boots and walk the cliffs, the blizzards of self-indulgent lies our sisters and mother’s deny. While they freeze, Doubiago urges them to take shelter. There is no state maintaining these roads during the storms Doubiago documents.

“Nights. Everyone’s dead but me and Mama. Then the arrowhead penetrates right in the middle of her forehead splitting her in two. Then the flames, then the whole tribe is storming in on me” (pg. 193).

That is. There isn’t a page one turns in this epic mural of the heart that forgets the witnesses.

In this way My Father’s Love is as much about incest and how we translate it’s persistence as it is about defining love and betrayal in the sassy defiant sway of sisters and mothers. Denying a father’s confession of rape. Right in front of their irreverent senses. Yes. Doubiago in fact stretches far beyond the Anais Nin syndrome of keeping secrets until all the players are “gone”, taming—perhaps for the first time-- “incest literature” to dance in two-step, in wild west literary format, with the sisters and mothers. Forcing them/us to claim a part in the corruption of beauty incest demands.

In Bridget, Doubiago’s sister (Bridget’s “real” name not used in this book), we have not a literary protagonist, rather a metaphor of spite. There are times Doubiago forces us to see in a sister, a loathing that surpasses or at least equals the rape itself--as a person lying in the same room with you while you are taken from your love in the name of love, as that person denies her sister a safe harbor and/or denies witnessing the rape. That is, with Doubiago. Younger sisters are not immune to the desire to slay beauty. There is more we know we as women can do and be and there is less and less Doubiago and her sister “Bridget” will escape.

This place of denial is portrayed as horrific as the act itself.

That is, Doubiago is not only a “survivor” of incest but more--she gives us the crack in the wall.

The broken slivers of beer bottled glass betraying bare feet in an urban meadow. She takes us to the window of blindfolds. And helps us take hold of speaking truth despite the aloneness, the negation of those who have witnessed a crime against soul. Doubiago makes a choice to tell us we aren’t alone. We who have, as writers and lovers, been tried and convicted by beloveds everywhere for “having wild imaginations”. During the sentencing being told “no honey. None of that never happened, you weren’t raped”.

Doubiago ever vigilant. Asking, still, for their eyes to open and cry with the girl who never cries in her sleep. To weep with. The girl who doesn’t sleep.

In the end, we are transfixed from the perplexing politics, the remiss of old rhetoric which consumes our dreams of a country where at long last a man of color might redeem the toxic currents of power. That is, there is a timelessness in My Father’s Love which reminds us that our delusions may be invested in tender men (and women) who appear to be the keepers of our dream and yet are the ones who will most certainly seek their own needs, first. Exploiting our trust in their desire to be trusted.

Make no mistake. In My Father’s Love. The vileness of incest is not dismissed. Nor is it excused, given penance. At the matrix of her work Doubiago seeds the multi dimensional, complex encounters with father. Holy father is challenged. A shroud is lifted. From the subtle rape of a sacred heart The violent rape of her body. The secret rape of her trust. Is depicted without mercy. From “lift your shirt, let’s check your breasts” to “you see you just aren’t as happy as your sister”. Doubiago takes us into the labyrinth of humiliation and shame upon which secret rapists thrive. The altar upon which they pray. And make no mistake. She loves her daddy. Hears his death bed confession of rape. And writes us a legacy which is not exclusive to her family, rather rampant in this American society.

There is no vaccination against such a disease. Doubiago’s father is living testament to this fact. Still. This is not a hate my father confessional book. Not a how-to hymnal. It is a collection of beatitudes to set us free. To know of these things. Doubiago stands in a threshold and invites us into her world. This was her Daddy. She loved him. Knowing full well it could also be our world. As well. She invites us in. To stand strong in our truth. To know we are not alone. That if we feel, we can dispel the lies which others would have us live by. And begin the authentification of self. So desperately craved, so nearly lost.

To stay it straight. My Father’s Love helps us stop lying to ourselves by telling the truth. It makes being a victim of incest unfashionable. Proudly, without apology, Doubiago writes love. She transfixes the vile nature of the event into a sojourn of survival via story. Writing the scenes, threading the tapestry the young girl (or boy) who is raped is now defined by the compassion s/he finds in unsilencing brutality. Thus. Rather than anger and victimization defining life, a connection with others defines survival. We are with her, in her story, and at some odd or brutal intersect, her story, our story merge. And we become One. Surviving together. The condoned brutality of patriarchy. Defying the common bond of lies. Becoming connected in corrupted love.

‘Isn’t it pretty Sharon LuLu?’, he sighs in Tyler, Texas. His hard snaky thing wagging back and forth under the steering wheel. Hives break out across my bare midriff...I worry about his wiry hairs when he has to zip up fast, Mama coming back to happy with roses” (pg 235).

Reading Doubiago one feels. Organically, somatically a subsequent ostracizing of those who rape and commit incest will emerge. At best. They will and can be busted. Not by the law, but by their People. Which once used to be one and the same thing. At least, they will be more easy to recognize, disguised as Father Love, masquerading as family.

In the end Sharon Luna Eden Doubiago gives us a safe home from which we can deconstruct AND reinvent our loss of innocence. A place from which we can release our longing. Doubiago a sorceress. Divining a sense of replenish. In the act of writing as revolution she has given Love a new task. One she herself accomplishes with painful grace: become that which you desire. Not that which has desired you. Insisting we redefine a
”Father’s Love” Doubiago infuses our crucial task with a tender, painful, genius. A plethora of craft and heart. This book, this project, chronicles our despair and in the making defines our possibilities. That is, Sharon Doubiago in My Father’s Love becomes a model of freedom, that others may plan our escape.

NEW book by Ed Little Crow, Lakota/Dakota

2009-12-05T13:05:00.000-08:00

Wild Embers
is proud to announce

new Fall 2009 titles

Dreaming of a True World: A Opchine WaLa Ohkon

by Ed Little Crow Lakota/Dakota veteran of the Seige of Wounded Knee 1973, member of the Elder's Council in Southern Oregon, father and poet. He is, in his words "a history keeper".

This collection includes poems, stories and memories from Little Crow-- a fusion of thoughts about the world as we find it now, the world as he knew it when he was young. "Dreaming" is a quintessential journey into the borderlands of human survival. Included are his poems from the 1980's and 90's, previously unpublished stories about the American Indian Movement, and commentaries about "being Indian", all transcribed from Little Crow interviews conducted in Ashland, Or. 2006.

order CROW here

la puerta, Taos the art of fetching Sky

writings/art by Robert Mirabal, Tewa, John Nichols (Milagro Beanfield War) and many other Taos, New Mexico writers/artists!

order TAOS here

connect

emberspress@gmail.com

2009-08-23T19:06:00.000-07:00

photo by antoinette "self portrait, cochiti spring 09"

antoinette bio
antoinette's blog

la puerta, Taos Aug. 09
see excerpts

history of the project

READ rEaD loVe

request review copy/giveaway

contact emberspress@gmail.com

BOOKS IN PRINT

2009-03-18T14:53:00.000-07:00

VISIT HERE
for complete booklist

image from
la Puerta, Taos an artbook series

"in sound proof rooms" published in hEyOka magazine, to be included in upcoming Ghost Rider Roads

2008-09-11T13:08:00.000-07:00

"In Sound Proof Rooms"
dedicated to Anna Mae Aquash (1945-1975/6)

a nEw pIecE
by antoinette nora claypoole

photo: "NW AIM, circa 1972" photographer unknown

"My eyes drift like a death walk.

Back into the heartbeat of a Pacific Northwest audience. An event myself and local activists organized: “Apartheid in America”.

One night that late winter weekend International Treaty Council person Tom LaBlanc brought an 8mm flick up from San Francisco. It was called “Brave Hearted Woman” and there I heard Annie Mae’s name.

Saw her death in the eyes of all of us, like headlights on an Oregon highway which Robert
Robideau still claims “did her in. That November (1975) bust here in Oregon was her death sentence, antoinette”. " read complete piece

home

bio/writings by antoinette nora claypoole, wild embers editor

2008-09-08T15:03:00.000-07:00

writings by antoinette nora claypoole

index of essays, news clips
click here

books
Who would Unbraid Her Hair: the legend of annie mae (1999) (out of print)

Rivers in Her Eyes
new revised edition, coming Feb. 2012

click on graphic to enlarge:

from "The Border Crossing of John Graham, Part One"
by antoinette nora claypoole

Journalistic Civil Rights and the Trial of John Graham

2008-08-09T13:19:00.000-07:00

antoinette contacted by U.S.Attorney
her position statement

John Graham Interview

WILD EMBERS updates

NEW...from antoinette nora claypoole

"civil rights of writers are very important in these times of Patriot Act realities. Currently I am stepping into a simple, important process of protecting our rights while adhering to/learning about the new "laws of the land". All this in regards to events in Indian Country, ie the upcoming trial of John Graham, extradited from Canada to the U.S. in Dec. 2007 for the murder of Annie Mae Pictou Aquash. I believe media rights will be part of our new landscape...a textured fight or a raging river, undammed. EIther way, we'll witness and create like emdangered osprey in the reeds of summer's heat..." (more, click here)

peace
antoinette

top photo: "self-portrait, desert spring" 3.08

AIM graphic donated by Robert Robideau from Peltier files: "John Trudell in protest"

2007-10-14T08:13:00.001-07:00

Heyoka Magazine
interview with antoinette nora claypoole
by John Le Kay

Remembering Vernon Bellecourt

Vernon Bellecourt passed away Oct. 13, 2007. His leadership of the American Indian Movement is a legacy which will never be forgotten. Here, a tribute to him, an interview we did back a few years ago. His words speak for themselves ....

"The Elder Bellecourt: an interview with Vernon
click here

the Lost Works of Louise Bryant

2007-03-19T14:27:00.000-07:00

BrAnD NeW
by antoinette

The Watersongs Project
compiling the lost works of
Louise Bryant (1885-1936)

"He would tell me the water was full of songs"
--Louise Bryant about Jack Reed
circa Oct. 1920
(photographer unknown)

co-creating

2006-08-15T18:25:00.000-07:00

antoinette claypoole's first book
Who Would Unbraid Her Hair: the legend of annie mae

MENU click here
click on image or scroll down

click on words u like ...to wander

monthly gems
Interview with John Trudell
response to Trudell interview

Watershed Years
Rivers in Her Eyes
Lost in the Chamiso Amalio Madueno
Annie Mae Aquash.

being publishe d
antoinette nora claypoole

excerpts ...philos op h y
Sandy Lee Book Contest ...YUM.

.call for submissions
the story store book titles... workshops.. events

beautiful people

beautiful book

Celtic harvest

2006-08-05T18:12:00.000-07:00

write us, connect
watersongs@gmail.com

beautiful people ...

"Pascal" by Jaap Vanderplas from la Puerta, Taos

...beautiful book

Book Cover...........la Puerta, Taos

2006-06-01T20:06:00.000-07:00

cover art
by Anita Rodriguez
from upcoming book la puerta, Taos the art of fetching Sky

(click on italics to travel)

MENU
Lost in the Chamiso
by Amalio Madueno
release date August 2006

Rivers in Her Eyes
by antoinette nora claypoole
pub date Spring 2006

la Puerta, Taos the art of fetching Sky
anthology....
includes work by John Nichols, Robert Mirabal, Barbara Waters
release date Spring 2009

Ghost Rider Roads
anthology from Indian Country
includes poems of Ed Little Crow, story by Robert Robideau, historical fiction by antoinette nora claypoole
release date Fall 20

philosophy
random writings
workshops
buy some books

our grassroots web flight

2006-04-15T18:29:00.000-07:00

love these words...these writers and artists.... as though you are the story. the poem. the ride inside the dream. you are.
(to read more, click on titles below)

lost in the chamiso by Amalio Madueno
experimental poetry, epic story of Garcia, Reina Rosa and the land of Northern New Mexico; noteworthy endorsement by Sam Hamill, founding editor of Copper Canyon Press and Poets Against the War.
(advance order purchase discount available....)

Dreaming of a True World by Ed Little Crow, Lakota
interviews, stories, poems by former member of the American Indian Movement (AIM); includes letters between Crow and political prisoner, Leonard Peltier. (purchase info)

Rivers in Her Eyes by antoinette nora claypoole
historical fiction about Navajo (Dine) of Big Mountain, Az.; included are factual letters from Dine elders and a public statement by Chief Arvol Looking Horse.

la Puerta, Taos: the art of fetching Sky ed. by antoinette nora claypoole
a collection of artwork, interviews, stories from artists of Taos, New Mexico; includes NEW interview/story by Robert Mirabal, Tiwa, a previously unpublished essay by John Nichols, and a foreword by Barbara Waters of the Frank Waters foundation. (advance order discount available)

UPCOMING

The Watershed Years: ed. antoinette nora claypoole
a collection of stories, interviews literary work from 25 years of Peace activities in Ashland, Or.

More details coming soon....

the trip begins

2006-01-27T22:18:00.000-08:00

"It was just one of those days"

photo by Gail Russell

from la Puerta, Taos the art of fetching sky
ed. antoinette nora claypoole
(pub. date Summer 2006. Wild Embers Press)

(click on italics to go places, click on images to view....)

Wild Embers links...

to receive review copies

just overall ordering info

gossamer dreams

philosophy...sending us things statement

some upcoming cool events

(peace, love & light handbill, from Lisa Law, photographer...one of the artists featured in la Puerta, Taos.....

upcoming titles
summer/fall 2006

(click on titles for more info...)

lost in the Chamiso
by Amalio Madueno

days before the folded wings
by Ed Little Crow, Lakota, Dakota
ed. antoinette nora claypoole

la Puerta, Taos the art of fetching sky
ed. antoinette nora claypoole

current title
(spring 2006)
Rivers in Her Eyes
by antoinette nora claypoole

"Curioso wash your days in Rio water.
Curioso, it's the heart that connects us"

--Amalio Madueno
from la Puerta, Taos the art of fetching sky

nominated for Pushcart Prize 2006

soon soon....we'll have posted images and excerpts
from this long awaited artbook....
creating a wild web site of curiouso heart vibes...

for those in New Mexico
samples of the la puerta book ("blads") are available
through:

Lyn Bleiler
at the Harwood Museum
on 258 Ledoux St.
Taos, New Mexico

January 27, 2006

also, you can see some
at Lisa Law's upcoming photo/art
exhibit in Santa Fe. during February.
((double click on the image above--the trip begins)

Lisa's work is included in la Puerta, Taos
(including a rare wild gem of Janis Joplin and Tommy Masters
in Truchas. one of my writing students, young, says, surprised "she looks happy".
yes well the revolution was love, and it was all around,
i explained, like a librarian in richard brautigan's The Abortion.
"no matter that she died. she died alive."

we are the keepers of the wild ride.

la Puerta, Taos is dedicated to.....
"our generation, the flower children,
that we have the courage to finish the dance"

here's that Lisa Law info
(as seen above on the handbill):

OPENING RECEPTION
Peace, Love & Light
Selected Works of Lisa Law
Friday, Feb. 3
First National Bank's Main Office on the Plaza
Santa Fe, N.M.
7:30 pm
for more info on that exhibit
contact
lisalaw@cybermesa.com

*&*&*&*&*&*&*
All People are One
antoinette nora claypoole

next post will be more images of wild abandon.