I did this in memory of my pal Earl Biss. Earl was the leader of what they called the
'Miracle Generation' up at the Institute of American Indian Arts, where he and guys like Kevin Red Star, T.C. Cannon and Doug Hyde pretty much turned Native American art on its head Earl and I used to do some partying together, and sometimes we'd get into fights up at El Farol on Canyon Road. We'd be up there talking life and art and women and stuff, and the cowboys would start to give Earl crap about his long hair and his outfits or something. He'd give it right back and pretty soon people were going at it. Well, Earl was a Crow, and I'm a quarter Cherokee, and I had long hair back then, too. So when the fights started, I figured I had to jump in on the Indian side. Man, we pretty much got the crap kicked out of us. I don't think we ever won a damn fight. Even though Earl wasn't much of a fighter, he was a hell of a painter. Every time I get down to the Museum, I look at his art and it still knocks me out. A guy who's a big collector and art critic told me he thought Earl was the greatest colorist of the 20th century, and I think he just might be right.
Earl used to show up at an opening wearing a tuxedo and not much else. No shoes.
No shirt. Maybe just a big medicine necklace around his neck. Some of the canvases would still be wet, because he'd painted right up until they had to hang the show. And he'd sell the place out.
In this piece, he's holding a brush and his palette, and above him is a rider at 'the end of the trail'. The rider is on a Spotted Horse, which was Earl's Crow name.
- GIB SINGLETON