The backstory: My tyrannical father hurt and mistreated me when I was a sweet, loving child. When I told him that I had kissed girls, he became frustrated and cruel towards me, treating me badly and instilling in me a fear of humans and the need to keep quiet. Nobody has shown me love, support, or life lessons. I've always been isolated, and I've never understood why. Living with a mental disorder in a world that is perceived as flawless, evil, crazy, and labor-intensive has made life extremely hard, frustrating, and baffled. They rejected, ridiculed, and bullied me. I had to adapt to avoid it and survive, as my understanding of life was limited. Life felt awful for me to be both witty and social. After years of not being myself, I suddenly fell into a deep depression for no apparent reason. Professional help was required for my final rescue. It didn't help, and I felt life was difficult and hopeless. Finally, I got early retirement at the age of 43.
I painted a dream of living like a Native American because they seemed to be tolerant, honest, calm, and protective. They led a calm, straightforward, and compassionate existence in the natural world. All they did was hunt, eat, sleep, and stay warm. They sat calmly around a bonfire in their tipi and spoke to each other in a calm, true, and helpful manner, which I like. They also used soft objects like horses, feathers, leather, wool, and bows and arrows. However, these good humans were abruptly wiped out by cruel, stupid white people, whom I despise in my world. As a child, I suffered cruel and envious treatment from those who didn't want me to love and please women. The artwork effectively conveys this anger.
