She tried to warm her hands before applying the make up, which was clay, to my body. Thick, betonite clay designed to dry out over time. And crack. Like the photographer had envisioned.

The women prepared me as if I was Princess becoming Queen. They wrapped my locks with colorful string and stone beads. The White Skinned Woman cared about which way the hair laid and it mattered to her more than it has ever mattered to me. I began caring, too.

57 Country Woman tried to warm her hands before applying the make up, which was clay, to my body. And I become covered. And the clay dried chalky white over every inch of my nude body. And the women's hands were drying, too. So they took paints to my eyes, and took the color from my eyebrows. I saw a gorgeous albino woman looking out from white cracked skin behind wise blue eyes. And then they adorned me with artifacts. I held around my neck snake vertebra and one of the two-toed sloth's toes. Beaded loin cloth from Africa, embroidered tassels from Peru, arm bands from the Amazon. I carried the child sling basket - these, the 57 Country Woman brought back with her as costume ideas. And today there were costumes. And today an American Tribal Queen they decorated was not lost, not rude, not tired not once.

And four hours after the onset of the preparation, I found myself in front of a camera. With a man attached to it. And he was looking through the magnificent magnifier to see if the Queen had arrived. With palms painted gold, she had.

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