The last image I made in Santa Fe, and quite fittingly one of the last of my entire journey through Indian Country, was this photograph of an art print mounted on a slab that to me appeared to be shaped like an oversized grave marker. The artist portrays an idealized Indian, brooding under a stylized moon. Yet when I walked back and photographed it from a distance, it appeared to become a memorial to a vanishing culture. The slashes of lingering light on the ground around the slab echo the stripes on the Indian’s blanket, and the darker I made the image in post processing, the more somber it became.