A day that dawned in a mix of clouds and sun has turned almost entirely gray now, only one swatch of blue still visible to the west. We are supposed to have exactly zero chance of rain this day, although gale-force winds are forecast for the afternoon.
But the clouds are leaden now, hanging low and close.
Perhaps there will be weather after all.
Or maybe not. If ever there were a place where conditions can change in the beat of a hummingbird’s wing, this is it.
As the wind rises, the temperature has fallen steadily, and we have had to rebuild the fire. It’s clear that the full force of the wild trickster winds is not far off now, making this a day to seek shelter indoors.
At times like this, I am grateful for thick walls that have the effect of soundproofing this place as thoroughly as they keep it warm.
Today’s featured work is made of the same clay as our home, a rich red earth shot through with mica that is as well suited to pottery as it is to adobe brick. It’s a small spirit bowl, or cup, a traditional item here given the artist’s own unique twist: a figurative being rising from the far side of the lip, emergent from the clay itself in what seems a metaphorical echo of the people’s own stories of emergence. From its description in the Other Artists: Pottery gallery here on the site:
An elder, wrapped in a traditional blanket, gazes watchfully over the wall of an old village home. He arises out of the bowl of an old-style mug made of hand-coiled micaceous clay, his blanket flowing downward to form its sides. The hallmarks of his home, an ancient Pueblo house, are molded in relief on the mug’s body, the details incised by hand on the front. Stands 3.75″ high on the figurative side (dimensions approximate).
Micaceous clay
$125 + shipping, handling, and insurance
Jessie’s clay cups always hold a few commonalities, even as each is distinct from the others: All possess the figure (or figures) arising from the lip, but all also have subtly sculpted front surfaces, a bit of overlap rendered almost but not entirely smooth, just enough change in depth to show, that same surface then etched in a traditional design.
That etchwork varies between pieces, too, ranging from the abstract to the very concrete. Some are patterns that are vaguely Indigenous without replicating any specific pattern; some reproduce actual things found in our world here, such as a cornstalk; and some are a combination of land- and villagescape, displaying the outlines of the Pueblo’s storied architecture and the mountains land behind it.
This work falls into the last category, but it differs from most of the others in one signal way. Instead of Jessie’s usual smoothly curved overlap on the front, a gentle and smoothly shaped arc, the sculpted area forms the outline of the image etched to its left: the stair-stepped lines of the Pueblo’s multi-story walls, a geometry like the traditional kiva steps pattern of other pottery, providing a faint boundary for the vigas and the window scribed on the side of it.
Combined with the image of the blanketed elder rising from the far side, a produces an image of shelter, yes, but more than that, of safety: of walls and parapets and sentries, a geometry of protection and preservation, of people, place, and ways. In the form of a spirit cup, used for traditional purposes, it brings the closed sheltering nature of culture and community as full circle as the cup itself, from its solid base to its open lip.
Outside, the mercury has dropped still further; the sky is a threatening yellow and the wind is just shy of a roar. Protection and preservation seem acutely welcome now, as does a day spent within the warmth and safety of these walls — a sheltering geometry, indeed.
~ Aji
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