Joyce Markwick 

Notes

As a child she watched Indians dance, and as day turned to night Ceremonial fires were lit, and the hot rich glow of flames in movement danced mysteriously and magically across the faces and feathers of the dancers. Prominent Red Bird was always there, kind to the mesmerized tiny child who perched quietly and respectfully on the log as she was taught. As the child grew she never forgot the dancing Red Bird, and years later he flew back to her, dancing in Spirit and Guiding her with her work. I am that Child.