We were seated under a large, two-piece canvas our salads half eaten. My interview with the award-winning potter hadn't revealed much. Wearing a fringed jacket, cheeks high and sharp, inscrutable face etched with time and wisdom. She exuded mystery.
"One last question."
She stood. "No more questions."
"Please—your advice for young Native American artists?"
She gazed at the canvases above our table, "In ex haha lele." Her words sing-song and breathy. Turning, she glided off.
"Wait! What's that mean?"
But she'd slipped away.
"Damn!"
I stood, glanced at the canvases, and froze. "Oh."
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