On mornings like this, when the October sun dawns clear and bright, the air sharp and light silver, it’s possible to believe in ideals like peace.
Soon, of course, the inversion layer settles over the town just below, the haze stretching around the horizon like an encircling veil, but in the early hours, the sun rises upon perfectly clear air, allowing one to see for miles in all directions.
It’s a perspective not often afforded us, in either literal or metaphorical terms.
Human history is typically clouded: by greed and self-interest and violence in their service. This land’s is no exception, the last half-millennium and more marked by all of the above, in a way that has been singularly destructive to our own peoples. Our many trails of tears and broken treaties are testament to that.
The world loves to talk about “peace” as though it is something attainable if we just say all the right words, mouth the right platitudes, invoke all the correct shibboleths.
Our peoples know better.
We know that peace requires work, and it sometimes requires its opposite to bring it into being in the first place. We have the singular experience of knowing that not one single treaty into which any of our peoples entered has ever been truly honored. The treaties are still broken daily, even on this day. From peace pipes to peace symbols, all have been singularly ineffective without a willingness to push back, to refuse to allow “peace” to be defined for us by others as ceding everything to the dominant culture: land, sovereignty, language, tradition, culture, identity, existence.
The looming legal holiday, only two days away, that celebrates a genocidal colonizing invader — and thus, by definition, the accompanying efforts to exterminate our peoples — cannot help but weigh heavily on our minds. We do not, of course, observe it, much less celebrate it as the dominant culture does. We mark, instead, Indigenous Peoples Day.
Then again, for us, every day is Indigenous Peoples Day. It’s not single gestural holiday; it’s simply a way of life.
Wings recently created a pair of earrings from some turquoise beads that he acquired long ago, beads formed into the shape of the peace symbol that has become a pop-culture icon during the course of our own lives. It sparked in him a desire to render the form in his preferred medium: a precious metal, wrought by hand and imbued with the sense of motion, of flight, that accompanies its symbolism: an image that resembles nothing so much as the Water Bird taking flight within life’s Sacred Hoop. From that desire today’s featured work was born. From their description in the Earrings Gallery:
For peoples whose last half-millennium has been marked by invasion and colonization from without, by the colonizers’ breaking of every single treaty entered, by the need to be willing to stand as warriors just to ensure survival, peace is a precious thing indeed. Here, Wings has summoned its spirit by way of the contemporary symbol, instantly recognizeable the world over, from a medium precious in its own right. The spokes have been formed, freehand, via delicate ajouré cutwork using a tiny jeweler’s saw. Each medallion, a disc of solid sterling silver, has been buffed nearly to a mirror sheen. Earrings measure 1.5 inches across (dimensions approximate).
Sterling silver
$225 + shipping, handling, and insurance
The stories of our collective peoples are rife with prophecy and promise: of a return to the old ways, to the good life of a sovereign indigenous land, to a true and precious Native peace, if we pray, if we dance, if we follow the path, if we stand strong.
On a morning like this, when the world is laid out clear at our feet, a sharp edge on the wind and a silver shimmer in the air, it’s possible to believe that such a peace is coming.
~ Aji
All content, including photos and text, are copyright Wings and Aji, 2015; all rights reserved. Nothing herein may used or reproduced in any form without the express written permission of the owners.
