https://myerman.art/prints/ Indigenous digital art prints by Tom Myer — Hodinǫ̱hsǫ́:nih and Ngäbe-Buglé artist. en-us https://myerman.art/prints/thirteen-moon-turtle/ https://myerman.art/prints/thirteen-moon-turtle/ Thirteen moons, thirteen scales on the turtle's back. The lunar calendar lives in the animal. I've been sitting with this knowledge for years and this piece is my way of honoring it — the turtle carries time. https://myerman.art/prints/three-crows-in-winter/ https://myerman.art/prints/three-crows-in-winter/ Winter doesn't silence crows. They're louder in the cold, more visible against the snow, more present somehow when everything else has gone quiet. Three of them, together, in winter. That's enough. https://myerman.art/prints/abstract-1/ https://myerman.art/prints/abstract-1/ I make a lot of figurative work — figures, animals, land. But I started with abstracts, because I was fascinated with composition and the power of suggestion. Abstract 1 is where I stopped trying to name what I was seeing and just let the energy and lines do the work. I don't always know what a piece is about until it's finished. For this one, I was definitely thinking about ancestral tomahawks, and buffalo. And of course, the sun motif that I use in so much of what I do. https://myerman.art/prints/abstract-2/ https://myerman.art/prints/abstract-2/ Same series, different conversation. Abstract 2 came out of a long night where I kept overworking things — too much detail, too much intention — so I stripped it back until there was nothing left but the sun, the buffalo, the tipis. And then the face and the tomahawk emerged. https://myerman.art/prints/abstract-3/ https://myerman.art/prints/abstract-3/ Vertical this time, which changes everything. Abstract 3 wants to be read top to bottom, like a mesoamerican plinth filled with characters that tell stories older than time. I was thinking about depth — what's buried, what rises. What emerges only after centuries. https://myerman.art/prints/abstract-4/ https://myerman.art/prints/abstract-4/ This was an early one in my abstract work — the piece where I realized I could be more intentional with my heritage. It began as a series of shapes, and suddenly the face appeared. I thought about the patience of the hunter. The way stillness is its own kind of power. https://myerman.art/prints/abstract-5/ https://myerman.art/prints/abstract-5/ Abstract feathers. All across the Americas, featherwork runs deep — ceremony, identity, status, prayer. This is my version of that: stripped back to shape and color, the way a feather looks when you stop seeing the bird and start seeing the thing itself. https://myerman.art/prints/afternoon-stroll/ https://myerman.art/prints/afternoon-stroll/ Not every piece is urgent. Sometimes it's just a walk in the afternoon light, moving through the land at a pace that lets you actually see it. This is that moment — unhurried, belonging. https://myerman.art/prints/ancestral-faces/ https://myerman.art/prints/ancestral-faces/ For all the Indigenous faces that have ever existed in the Americas — and for the fact that their blood still runs in all of us who live here now. The faces change. The inheritance doesn't. https://myerman.art/prints/ancestral-woman/ https://myerman.art/prints/ancestral-woman/ She's always been there, in every incarnation. Mother, Grandmother, Healer, Warrior. I've painted her before under different names, in different light. She keeps coming back. I don't think she'll stop. https://myerman.art/prints/beauty/ https://myerman.art/prints/beauty/ I wanted to capture the beauty of the indigenous women in my life — not just the ones around me when I was growing up, but the beautiful women — Apache, Lakota, Ojibwe — around me now. https://myerman.art/prints/bless-this-lodge/ https://myerman.art/prints/bless-this-lodge/ A prayer for the home. For the structure that holds the family, that keeps the cold out, that becomes sacred just by being lived in. Bless this lodge — the one we built, the one we protect. https://myerman.art/prints/blood-crow/ https://myerman.art/prints/blood-crow/ I see crows every morning on my bike commute. One day one hopped out in front of me — beak and head flecked with blood, completely unbothered. He disappeared into the bushes like he had somewhere to be. I've been thinking about that crow ever since. Crows always find a way. I respect that. https://myerman.art/prints/bride/ https://myerman.art/prints/bride/ I was thinking about ceremony. About the things we do to mark the moments that matter — who witnesses them, what we wear, what we carry into the next part of life. Indigenous wedding traditions are as varied as Indigenous nations, but there's something consistent in the weight of them. The way they ask you to show up fully. https://myerman.art/prints/brother-bear-fights-too-much/ https://myerman.art/prints/brother-bear-fights-too-much/ Bears fight. That's just the truth of it. But Brother Bear here has made it a lifestyle, and you can see it on his face — battered, still standing, still showing up. I know people like this. I love them. https://myerman.art/prints/bullseye/ https://myerman.art/prints/bullseye/ The target isn't the face — the face is the one looking back at you. This piece inverts the gaze. The one being aimed at has been watching longer than anyone holding the bow. https://myerman.art/prints/coyote-and-raven/ https://myerman.art/prints/coyote-and-raven/ In so many Native traditions of the Americas, the raven and the coyote are the tricksters — the ones who break the rules so the rest of us don't have to. The coyote is pure chaos. The raven is a strategist who just happens to enjoy the mess. I put them together and let them work it out. I'm still not sure who won. https://myerman.art/prints/dawn-eagle/ https://myerman.art/prints/dawn-eagle/ When I painted this I had a vision of a warrior standing at the edge of the world, watching the sun come up. The morning light catches an eagle in flight above, and also the feathers atop the warrior's head. At dawn it's hard to tell who's watching who. This is what it feels like to belong to a land. To know it's still yours. https://myerman.art/prints/dawn-river-valley/ https://myerman.art/prints/dawn-river-valley/ I grew up in the mountains and the rivers feel like they're in my bones. Dawn River Valley is a place I made up but it's also every river valley I've ever stood in at first light — that specific quiet, that specific colour, the feeling that the world is about to start again. https://myerman.art/prints/deer-woman/ https://myerman.art/prints/deer-woman/ Deer Woman shows up across many Indigenous traditions — Plains nations, Woodland nations, Southeast nations. She's a shapeshifter. A warning. A destroyer of lecherous men. https://myerman.art/prints/defender/ https://myerman.art/prints/defender/ I was thinking about the strong indigenous women in my life — particularly, my grandmother — when I made this. She was kind and happy, but she was made of iron. And she would stop at nothing to defend her family and land. This piece is for her. And for all the women who ever showed up as defenders. https://myerman.art/prints/defending-a-way-of-life/ https://myerman.art/prints/defending-a-way-of-life/ A Mesoamerican warrior, war club raised, sacred symbols woven into the land and sun behind him. His face is grim — this is not a man who takes what he's doing lightly. But there's something else there too: a readiness, almost an eagerness, to play his role. Some people are built for the moment when everything they love needs defending. He is one of those people. https://myerman.art/prints/destroy-ice/ https://myerman.art/prints/destroy-ice/ This is not subtle and it's not meant to be. ICE is a weapon used against Indigenous and brown people. Destroying it isn't radical — it's the minimum. This piece says what I believe. https://myerman.art/prints/determined/ https://myerman.art/prints/determined/ I'm here because my ancestors refused to yield. Through genocide, ecocide, ethnocide — they held on. Not metaphorically. Literally. They were determined to survive in a way most people will never have to be. This piece is for them. And it's a reminder to me, every day, that persistence is not passive. https://myerman.art/prints/embera-woman/ https://myerman.art/prints/embera-woman/ My mother's people are Ngäbe-Buglé from Panama. The Emberá are their neighbors — different nation, different language, different history, but the same struggle to exist on lands that outside forces keep trying to take. This portrait, of a woman bathing at the river, is a small acknowledgment of that shared ground. https://myerman.art/prints/encroachment/ https://myerman.art/prints/encroachment/ I made this during a stretch where I painted thirty landscapes in a row. By number twelve I was bored silly with making hyper-realistic mountains, so I went somewhere rawer. The red tide approaching the tipis is fire, or blood — you decide. The US flag is colonization. And the red comes from the east, because of course it does. https://myerman.art/prints/fight-back/ https://myerman.art/prints/fight-back/ Two words that cover everything. The fight is not new — it's the same fight, different chapter. But you can't sit it out. You have to show up and fight back. That's the whole piece. https://myerman.art/prints/flatirons-and-buffalo-road/ https://myerman.art/prints/flatirons-and-buffalo-road/ Every artist who lives in Boulder paints the Flatirons eventually. I painted them the way I needed to see them — abstract, ancient, with buffalo moving along a spirit road in front of them. No condos. No climbers. No REI stores. Just the land, the animals, and the sky. Before. https://myerman.art/prints/flowing-water-soaring-birds/ https://myerman.art/prints/flowing-water-soaring-birds/ I'd been painting hyper-realistic rivers and waterfalls for weeks — technically correct, spiritually empty. So I let go of the reference photos and painted what I felt instead: water that moves like prayer, and ravens lifting out of the current toward something I couldn't quite put my finger on. Sometimes that's the most honest thing you can do. https://myerman.art/prints/fractured-native/ https://myerman.art/prints/fractured-native/ Identity fragmented by colonial pressure, by blood quantum laws, by the constant demand to prove you're Native enough. This piece is about what that fracturing looks like — and the wholeness that persists underneath. https://myerman.art/prints/friends/ https://myerman.art/prints/friends/ When I paint horses I usually imagine them in war paint — ready for something. This time I thought about a wild mustang before all that. Untamed, unbothered, standing in open country. And then the crow showed up, the way crows always do. Uninvited, completely at home, already acting like they've been friends for years. https://myerman.art/prints/fuck-ice/ https://myerman.art/prints/fuck-ice/ I don't have a lot of patience for softening the message here. ICE terrorizes Indigenous and immigrant communities. It separates families. It operates with near-total impunity. The title says what needs saying. https://myerman.art/prints/fury/ https://myerman.art/prints/fury/ There's a kind of rage that doesn't explode — it concentrates. It becomes precise. This piece came out of one of those moments. I know exactly what set this off — reading the journals of Spaniard conquerors who encountered stiff opposition from tribes in their path. I imagined the fierceness and rage it took to not back down. https://myerman.art/prints/futurism-always-carry-a-tomahawk/ https://myerman.art/prints/futurism-always-carry-a-tomahawk/ The Futurism series imagines Native people in spaces where we've been written out of — the future, essentially. Always Carry a Tomahawk is both tactical advice and a reminder: tradition and technology were never opposites. And also, this is a bit of a wink at Da Vinci — this is my Mona Lisa. https://myerman.art/prints/futurism-crash-landing/ https://myerman.art/prints/futurism-crash-landing/ Not every mission goes clean. Sometimes you come in hot and you adapt. Indigenous resilience isn't about perfect landings — it's about getting back up after the rough ones and still calling it a win. https://myerman.art/prints/futurism-day-of-reckoning/ https://myerman.art/prints/futurism-day-of-reckoning/ This one came out of a feeling — the sense that something long overdue is finally arriving. Indigenous futures aren't just possible, they're inevitable. The reckoning isn't coming. It's here. https://myerman.art/prints/futurism-defiant/ https://myerman.art/prints/futurism-defiant/ Defiance isn't a phase. It's a posture, a way of standing in a world that has tried repeatedly to flatten you. This warrior stands because standing is the statement. https://myerman.art/prints/futurism-defiant-forever/ https://myerman.art/prints/futurism-defiant-forever/ The title says everything. Not defiant for a moment or a movement — forever. Generations of resistance, encoded in the stance, in the colors, in the refusal to disappear. https://myerman.art/prints/futurism-flyby/ https://myerman.art/prints/futurism-flyby/ Speed, precision, purpose. This piece is about the moment when you stop surviving and start moving — when the trajectory shifts and you're no longer reacting, you're leading. https://myerman.art/prints/futurism-future-so-bright/ https://myerman.art/prints/futurism-future-so-bright/ Yeah, I gotta wear shades. The Futurism series is about refusing the narrative that Indigenous people are a past-tense people. We are not artifacts. We are not tragic. We are — among other things — flying spaceships and wearing excellent sunglasses. https://myerman.art/prints/futurism-in-command/ https://myerman.art/prints/futurism-in-command/ I want to see Indigenous people in charge of things. Not as a fantasy — as a correction of a historical wrong that's still ongoing. In Command puts a Native person at the helm, in the captain's chair, making the calls. It's not radical. It's just what should have been normal. The very first in my Indigenous Futurism series and a perennial best seller at art markets. https://myerman.art/prints/futurism-indiginaut/ https://myerman.art/prints/futurism-indiginaut/ Indigenous in space — not as metaphor, but as fact. The Indiginaut carries the land with them into the cosmos. The stars aren't a new world. They're another home waiting. https://myerman.art/prints/futurism-insight/ https://myerman.art/prints/futurism-insight/ The insight is that we were always here, always watching, always knowing. The future doesn't surprise us. We see it coming from a long way off, same as we always have. https://myerman.art/prints/futurism-join-the-fleet/ https://myerman.art/prints/futurism-join-the-fleet/ Recruitment poster energy, except the fleet is ours. The Futurism series keeps asking: what does Indigenous sovereignty look like in the future? This one says: it looks like a navy. It looks like presence and power in every possible domain. Join the fleet, see the galaxy. https://myerman.art/prints/futurism-keep-them-flying/ https://myerman.art/prints/futurism-keep-them-flying/ A tribute to the ones who keep going — who keep the stories, the languages, the ceremonies alive even when the pressure to stop is relentless. Keep them flying. https://myerman.art/prints/futurism-liftoff/ https://myerman.art/prints/futurism-liftoff/ This is the moment before everything changes. Liftoff isn't just mechanical — it's the decision to go, to reach, to claim something that was always yours. Indigenous futures launch from this moment. https://myerman.art/prints/futurism-mesoamerican/ https://myerman.art/prints/futurism-mesoamerican/ Mesoamerican civilizations built cities that rivalled anything in Europe — astronomical observatories, agricultural systems, trade networks spanning thousands of miles, sanitation systems. This piece asks what it looks like when that sophistication is projected forward instead of backward. The answer is breathtaking and fun. https://myerman.art/prints/futurism-our-land/ https://myerman.art/prints/futurism-our-land/ Not a request. Not a protest sign. A statement of fact that predates every map ever drawn by a government that didn't ask. This land was ours before the concept of "before" existed to colonizers. https://myerman.art/prints/futurism-sentinel/ https://myerman.art/prints/futurism-sentinel/ The sentinel watches. Has always watched. Will keep watching long after the latest threat passes. There's a patience in guardianship that spans generations — this piece lives in that patience. https://myerman.art/prints/futurism-silicon-tattoos/ https://myerman.art/prints/futurism-silicon-tattoos/ Technology and tradition aren't opposites. Silicon tattoos — digital marks on a living body — are just another form of adornment, another way of declaring who you are and where you come from. https://myerman.art/prints/futurism-spacewalk/ https://myerman.art/prints/futurism-spacewalk/ Out here, the old rules don't apply. Out here, there's no treaty line, no reservation border, no jurisdiction. The spacewalk is freedom — the kind that comes when you get far enough away to see clearly. https://myerman.art/prints/futurism-the-negotiator/ https://myerman.art/prints/futurism-the-negotiator/ Some negotiations are won by force. Some by patience. The best ones are won by someone who knows the terrain better than anyone across the table. That's this figure. That's always been us. https://myerman.art/prints/futurism-warrior-society/ https://myerman.art/prints/futurism-warrior-society/ The warrior societies didn't dissolve. They evolved. This piece is a vision of what that evolution looks like — the tradition of protection and purpose, updated for the fight in front of us right now. https://myerman.art/prints/glorious-morning/ https://myerman.art/prints/glorious-morning/ Some mornings are just objectively glorious and you don't need to make it more complicated than that. I imagined the sun rising over a group of tipis, everything bathed in glorious pastels. https://myerman.art/prints/grief/ https://myerman.art/prints/grief/ I think about 1492 a lot. Not as a date in a textbook — as a before and after. The world that existed before that year — the civilizations, the languages, the ceremonies, the joy — and then the long slow grief of watching it disappear generation by generation. This piece is for everyone who mourned. And everyone who still does. https://myerman.art/prints/guardian-eagle/ https://myerman.art/prints/guardian-eagle/ For the Haudenosaunee, the eagle sits at the top of the Tree of Peace — watching. Always watching. If enemies approach, he cries out. He doesn't sleep. He doesn't look away. I painted this eagle because I know what it feels like to need that kind of guardian. We all do, right now. https://myerman.art/prints/haudenosaunee-turtle-with-wampum-belt/ https://myerman.art/prints/haudenosaunee-turtle-with-wampum-belt/ Turtle Island is what many Native nations call this continent — the land carried on the back of a great turtle since the beginning. The Wampum Belt on this turtle's back represents the Haudenosaunee Confederacy, one of the oldest democracies on earth and a direct inspiration for the United States Constitution. I wanted to put both things in one image: the land, and the law that was meant to protect it. https://myerman.art/prints/hunter/ https://myerman.art/prints/hunter/ Stillness before the shot. The hunter isn't moving — everything inside is absolutely focused, and the land holds its breath. This is what presence looks like when it's fully committed. https://myerman.art/prints/make-america-native-again/ https://myerman.art/prints/make-america-native-again/ This is a war pony. The title says everything else. We were here first. We're still here, and we will be here long after everyone else is gone. https://myerman.art/prints/march-of-the-buffalo/ https://myerman.art/prints/march-of-the-buffalo/ There were 30-60 million bison on this continent. Then there were fewer than a thousand. The slaughter was deliberate — a strategy to starve Plains nations into submission. The herds are coming back now, slowly, in fits and starts. This piece is for the march — the one that was, and the one that's beginning again. https://myerman.art/prints/mmiw/ https://myerman.art/prints/mmiw/ In Canada, Indigenous women are murdered at a rate six times higher than non-Indigenous women. In the United States, the numbers are similarly brutal and similarly underreported. MMIW — Missing and Murdered Indigenous Women — is not a statistic. It is a mother, a sister, a daughter, a friend. It is a name that should not be missing. https://myerman.art/prints/moonlight-fishing/ https://myerman.art/prints/moonlight-fishing/ I was thinking about our long ago woodland Indian ancestors when I painted this. Thinking about how they got around in birchbark canoes. And I'd always seen those heroic paintings of a war party striking out in canoes, looking to mix it up. But what about the quieter moments? Fishing at night? https://myerman.art/prints/morning-prayers/ https://myerman.art/prints/morning-prayers/ I'm not a religious person in any organized sense, but I understand ceremony. The way starting the day with intention changes the day. Morning Prayers is about that threshold — the moment before you've been anywhere or done anything, when everything is still possible. https://myerman.art/prints/mother-and-child/ https://myerman.art/prints/mother-and-child/ This isn't a sentimental piece, though it might look like one. It's about transmission — the way culture, language, knowledge, and survival instinct get passed from body to body. The most radical act of resistance is raising a child who knows who they are. https://myerman.art/prints/native-festival/ https://myerman.art/prints/native-festival/ Growing up in Central America, there were lots and lots of festivals, year round. Most of them were strictly Catholic, but in almost all of them were super bright spots of indigeneity. A symbol there, a food there. Drums, feathers. It was a reminder to everyone present: we're still here and we're gonna dance. https://myerman.art/prints/night-hawk/ https://myerman.art/prints/night-hawk/ Something about a hawk in the dark feels ancient to me. Not threatening — watchful. The moon full, the world quiet, and this bird completely still, completely present. I wanted to paint what it feels like to pay attention when everyone else has gone to sleep. https://myerman.art/prints/palomino/ https://myerman.art/prints/palomino/ This is a war pony. The paint on him is a language — hail to bring storms down on enemies, a circle around the eye to sharpen sight, horizontal stripes to ward off arrows. Every mark is a prayer and a threat at the same time. I've always loved that about Plains warrior tradition: beauty and danger, inseparable. https://myerman.art/prints/peaceful-not-harmless/ https://myerman.art/prints/peaceful-not-harmless/ We will not escalate. But make no mistake — peaceful is not the same as harmless, and patience is not the same as passivity. This piece is a quiet warning and a clear statement of who we are. https://myerman.art/prints/petroglyph-raven/ https://myerman.art/prints/petroglyph-raven/ Petroglyphs are proof. Not the kind you argue about in comment sections — the kind carved into rock faces tens of thousands of years ago, still there, still speaking. I put them in my art whenever I can because I want people to feel that continuity. We were carving on those rocks before the glaciers had retreated over most of Europe. https://myerman.art/prints/raven-with-petroglyphs-and-weapons/ https://myerman.art/prints/raven-with-petroglyphs-and-weapons/ Ravens remember everything. That's not folklore — watch them for a week and you'll understand. Petroglyphs are memory made permanent: hands that pressed meaning into stone thousands of years ago, still speaking. And the weapons — tomahawk and war club — speak to the necessity of defending what matters. The raven ascends, but never forgets his roots. https://myerman.art/prints/red-hand/ https://myerman.art/prints/red-hand/ A warrior. A red hand. Is it blood from a wound, or blood from a hunt, or blood from something he had to do? I'm not telling. Part of what I love about this image is that you bring your own answer. Hang it on your wall long enough and it'll change. https://myerman.art/prints/resist/ https://myerman.art/prints/resist/ One word. It doesn't need explanation. The history of Indigenous people is a history of resistance — the word has lived in our bones longer than the movement borrowed it. https://myerman.art/prints/ride-hard/ https://myerman.art/prints/ride-hard/ There's something about a horse at full gallop that feels like pure freedom. No fences, no borders, no one telling you where to stop. I painted this warrior mid-flight across an open landscape because that feeling — of moving fast and belonging to the land you're crossing — felt like something worth capturing. Is he delivering a message? A warning? Fleeing an enemy? What do you think? https://myerman.art/prints/sacred-lodge/ https://myerman.art/prints/sacred-lodge/ The lodge is not just a structure. It's a container for ceremony, for prayer, for the kind of conversation you don't have anywhere else. Sacred Lodge is about the space we create when we come together with intention. https://myerman.art/prints/soaring-thunderbird/ https://myerman.art/prints/soaring-thunderbird/ The Thunderbird shows up across dozens of Native traditions — Pacific Northwest to the Great Plains, coast to coast — which tells you something about the sky and what people saw in it. This isn't a ceremony piece. It's not asking for anything. It's just a Thunderbird doing what Thunderbirds do: flying at a scale that makes everything below it feel small and lucky to be alive. https://myerman.art/prints/sun-lodge/ https://myerman.art/prints/sun-lodge/ The sun comes in through the smoke hole and hits the floor of the lodge and everything stops. That moment is what this piece is about — light as ceremony, ceremony as alignment with something much larger. https://myerman.art/prints/sun-over-tipis/ https://myerman.art/prints/sun-over-tipis/ The tipi is engineered to perfection — it handles wind, rain, and cold better than most modern structures, and it can be moved by a few people in under an hour. This piece is partly about the beauty of that, and partly about what it means to have a relationship with your shelter rather than just occupying it. https://myerman.art/prints/sun-kissed-warrior/ https://myerman.art/prints/sun-kissed-warrior/ I wanted to paint someone in good light — literally and figuratively. The warrior tradition in Indigenous cultures is not primarily about war. It's about protection. About standing between the community and whatever threatens it. This figure is standing in the sun, unbothered. Ready. https://myerman.art/prints/sunrise/ https://myerman.art/prints/sunrise/ A Mesoamerican priest greets the sun. Glyphic figures rise with it — ancestors, maybe, or something older. I painted this thinking about how many mornings have started exactly this way, on this continent, for thousands of years before anyone decided to put a different name on the land. The sun came up then. It comes up now. That continuity is everything. https://myerman.art/prints/superb-owl/ https://myerman.art/prints/superb-owl/ Every year during the Super Bowl I make art instead of watching football. One year I made an owl. A very superb owl. The nerd in me appreciated the wordplay. The artist in me appreciated the bird. Some jokes are worth painting. https://myerman.art/prints/there-are-two-wolves-inside-you/ https://myerman.art/prints/there-are-two-wolves-inside-you/ You've seen this story attributed to approximately every Indigenous nation on the continent. The actual origin is disputed. But the idea — that we are in constant negotiation with our worst and best selves — is old enough that it doesn't need a verified source. I made this piece because the story is true even if the attribution is messy. https://myerman.art/prints/three-sachems/ https://myerman.art/prints/three-sachems/ For the chiefs I've known in Ngäbe-Buglé territory — wise and funny and full of stories. Men who carry the weight of their people lightly, because they've been carrying it so long. Sachems in the truest sense: leaders by trust, not title. https://myerman.art/prints/three-buffalo/ https://myerman.art/prints/three-buffalo/ The Flatirons at night with the Milky Way overhead and three buffalo standing in the foreground. I live in Boulder and those rock formations get into you — they're ancient and they don't care about anything you're worried about. The buffalo are equally unbothered. The galaxy above them more so. I wanted to put all three of those scales in one frame: the animal, the mountain, the cosmos. All of it existing at once, on a night when the sky is clear enough to remind you how small and lucky you are. https://myerman.art/prints/thunderbird/ https://myerman.art/prints/thunderbird/ The Thunderbird doesn't belong to one place or one nation — the figure appears across dozens of Native traditions from the Pacific Northwest to the Great Plains. I put this one over the desert because I wanted to show him in open sky, uncontained. Not in ceremony. Just flying, the way power moves when it isn't performing for anyone. https://myerman.art/prints/thunderbird-lodge/ https://myerman.art/prints/thunderbird-lodge/ The Thunderbird presides. That's what this piece is — a lodge held under the protection of the Thunderbird, who brings rain and lightning and the kind of power that clears the air. https://myerman.art/prints/thunderbird-petroglyph/ https://myerman.art/prints/thunderbird-petroglyph/ Ancient marks on stone. The Thunderbird has been carved into rock faces across the continent for thousands of years — I'm just the latest person in that long chain, making the mark in a new medium. https://myerman.art/prints/tomahawk-crow/ https://myerman.art/prints/tomahawk-crow/ Crows are the smartest birds on earth. They hold grudges, they use tools, they remember faces. This one is carrying a tomahawk and he is not in a forgiving mood. Some hatchets don't get buried. Some crows know exactly what they're about. https://myerman.art/prints/uncle/ https://myerman.art/prints/uncle/ Made in honor of all the uncles I've seen at powwow — keeping up the traditions, carrying the knowledge forward, and being incredibly handsome while doing so. Every gathering has one. Every community needs them. https://myerman.art/prints/undefeated/ https://myerman.art/prints/undefeated/ Not unscathed. Undefeated. There's a difference — one is about being untouched, the other is about what you do with the damage. This figure carries all of it and is still standing. https://myerman.art/prints/walk-in-the-woods/ https://myerman.art/prints/walk-in-the-woods/ The woods are not quiet for those who know how to listen. Every step on this path has been walked by someone before you, and the trees remember all of it. This walk is a conversation with that memory. https://myerman.art/prints/warclub-tomahawk/ https://myerman.art/prints/warclub-tomahawk/ Two weapons, two traditions, one purpose: protection. The war club and the tomahawk have been weapons of ceremony and conflict for centuries. I put them together as a statement of continuity. https://myerman.art/prints/we-are-all-connected/ https://myerman.art/prints/we-are-all-connected/ I know this sounds like a bumper sticker. I don't care. The ecological reality is that everything is connected — watersheds, food webs, air currents, the mycorrhizal networks under every forest floor. Indigenous peoples have been saying this for as long as there have been Indigenous peoples. Science keeps catching up. https://myerman.art/prints/we-gonna-tread/ https://myerman.art/prints/we-gonna-tread/ I made this in reaction to all the MAGA flags and bumper stickers with that coiled rattlesnake — Don't Tread on Me. As if that sentiment was invented by people who've never had anything taken from them. This snapping turtle has a different message. We're gonna tread. We've always been here, and we're tired and mean. Get used to it. https://myerman.art/prints/white-buffalo/ https://myerman.art/prints/white-buffalo/ The birth of a white buffalo calf is considered a sacred sign in Lakota and other Plains traditions — a prophecy being fulfilled, a call to unity and healing. I'm not Lakota. I made this with respect, because the symbol belongs to a moment the world seems to need. The white buffalo is rare. So is the kind of hope it represents. https://myerman.art/prints/wise-old-owl/ https://myerman.art/prints/wise-old-owl/ Owls don't miss much. They see in the dark, they turn their heads almost all the way around, and they wait. This one has the look of something ancient — not just old, but carrying knowledge that goes back further than memory. I don't know exactly what he's watching. But I believe he knows. https://myerman.art/prints/wolf-singing/ https://myerman.art/prints/wolf-singing/ I chose singing on purpose. Not howling — singing. Because howling implies wildness and distance and something to be afraid of. Singing implies intention. Community. A voice raised toward something. Wolves are deeply social animals. Everything they do is in relation to something else. This one is mid-song. https://myerman.art/prints/year-of-the-horse/ https://myerman.art/prints/year-of-the-horse/ The horse is one of those images that crosses every culture I care about — the Plains warrior tradition, the Chinese zodiac, the wild freedom of something that can't quite be tamed. This is my second war pony and I don't apologize for that. Some subjects deserve to be painted more than once. https://myerman.art/prints/abstract-6/ https://myerman.art/prints/abstract-6/ The sixth in the series. The shapes keep evolving — this time pulling from memory, not intention. Something between a glyph and a dream. https://myerman.art/prints/ancestors-point-the-way/ https://myerman.art/prints/ancestors-point-the-way/ They came before us and they're still here — in the land, in the blood, in the way we move through the world. This is that sense of direction that comes from deep time. https://myerman.art/prints/buffalo-dream/ https://myerman.art/prints/buffalo-dream/ A vision. The buffalo that ran across this continent in their millions are not entirely gone — they persist in dreams and ceremony and art and the slow memory of the land. https://myerman.art/prints/canyon-sunrise/ https://myerman.art/prints/canyon-sunrise/ First light hitting red rock. Canyon country has been home to people for thousands of years. This is dawn from the rim — that moment when the world remembers it's alive. https://myerman.art/prints/curious-cubs/ https://myerman.art/prints/curious-cubs/ Two young bears discovering the world. Everything is still new to them. I wanted to catch that moment of pure curiosity — no fear yet, just wonder. https://myerman.art/prints/floating/ https://myerman.art/prints/floating/ Between earth and sky. The feeling when you're up high enough that the weight of everything releases. Inspired by ceremony — the way the right moment can make you feel untethered from gravity. https://myerman.art/prints/futurism-on-patrol/ https://myerman.art/prints/futurism-on-patrol/ Indigenous futurism means we're not just survivors — we're guardians. On patrol is about vigilance, about the knowledge that protection of land and people is sacred work that never ends. https://myerman.art/prints/futurism-ready-to-go/ https://myerman.art/prints/futurism-ready-to-go/ The moment before departure. In the future I imagine, readiness looks like this — equipped with tradition, carrying the old knowledge, aimed at tomorrow. https://myerman.art/prints/futurism-trigger-discipline/ https://myerman.art/prints/futurism-trigger-discipline/ Power without recklessness. In my futurism, the warriors have discipline — they know the difference between strength and cruelty. Trigger discipline is more than technique; it's a philosophy of restraint. https://myerman.art/prints/futurism-we-are-star-stuff/ https://myerman.art/prints/futurism-we-are-star-stuff/ Indigenous peoples have always known what Carl Sagan later named — we come from the stars and we will return to them. This is the cosmic dimension of native identity, rendered in light. https://myerman.art/prints/gathering-of-clans/ https://myerman.art/prints/gathering-of-clans/ Nations coming together. This is what sovereignty looks like from the inside — not isolation but connection, ceremony, the deliberate act of gathering to remember who we are and what we carry. https://myerman.art/prints/joy/ https://myerman.art/prints/joy/ We are still here. And sometimes, we are joyful. This is not about forgetting — it's about refusing to let grief be the whole story. Joy is resistance. Joy is survival made visible. https://myerman.art/prints/medicine-wheel-crow/ https://myerman.art/prints/medicine-wheel-crow/ The medicine wheel maps the cosmos — four directions, four seasons, four stages of life. The crow carries that knowledge, watches the wheel turn, knows exactly what it means. https://myerman.art/prints/petroglyph-hunter/ https://myerman.art/prints/petroglyph-hunter/ Cut into rock thousands of years ago, the hunter persists. These figures are not primitive — they are precise communications across deep time. Every stroke was intentional. Every mark is still speaking. https://myerman.art/prints/resist-yesterday-today-tomorrow/ https://myerman.art/prints/resist-yesterday-today-tomorrow/ Resistance isn't a moment — it's a continuum. Our ancestors resisted. We resist now. Those who come after us will resist too. This is what that looks like when you collapse the timeline: the same fire, carried forward through every generation. https://myerman.art/prints/stand-your-ground/ https://myerman.art/prints/stand-your-ground/ The phrase gets weaponized by the wrong people. This is what it looks like when it means something true — when standing your ground means protecting your people, your land, your way of life. https://myerman.art/prints/the-nesting-place/ https://myerman.art/prints/the-nesting-place/ Home is wherever the young are kept safe. This is a study in nesting — the precision and care that animals bring to making a place where new life can begin and be protected. https://myerman.art/prints/three-sister-wolves/ https://myerman.art/prints/three-sister-wolves/ Three wolves, three sisters. The wolf pack is organized around relationship — the particular intimacy of sisters, which in wolf society is the foundation of everything. Pack is family. Family is survival. https://myerman.art/prints/timeless-vigil/ https://myerman.art/prints/timeless-vigil/ Watching without end. The old ones kept vigil — over the young, over the sacred places, over the knowledge that keeps us whole. This is that practice, rendered in light and color across time.