We’ve been in the middle of an extended thaw for weeks now. Temperatures rising into the sixties, green grass shooting up from the soil, trees budding out everywhere, wildlife losing their winter coats and with them, their sense of where they’re supposed to be for the season. The temperature part of that is supposed to change tonight or tomorrow — again — but the fact of the matter is that climate change is ensuring that, overall, our winters are now shorter and warmer than ever before.
At any rate, the snow from the last storm is now gone; all that remains are some gray patches of hardened slush in a couple of areas that don’t see the sun at any time of day. What covers the landscape now is rich brown soil, awaiting the next dusting, or barring that, a sprinkling of seeds to begin the growing season.
Of course, we know it’s still too early for that, and there will be many more dustings of snow between now and the first day of planting. Still, Wings had already had the ditching completed in preparation for this year’s irrigation, and has spent the last few days on the annual rite of controlled burns, done in small patches, early, before the pre-spring winds rise for the day. Tomorrow, or perhaps the next day, at least some snow will cover those patches and all the rest again, and we’ll see a landscape mapped like the bodies of our little Spirit Bears.
We’ve covered Spirit Bears before, both the real bears and our artisans’ renderings of them. We’ve also covered the materials from which these are made: spiderweb alabaster. Despite the name, there’s absolutely nothing scary or even remotely unpleasant about the stone; to the contrary, it’s beautiful to see and touch. As I said then:
First, the primary stone itself is ordinary white alabaster — as noted above, gypsum. Plain [white] alabaster ranges from slightly translucent icy white to an opaque white more or less the color of snow to various shades of off-white to a putty-gray shade. In this form, it’s usually fairly close to actual white, like snow, with just a hint of ivory undertones. The white portions of it also tend to be relatively opaque across the board, with little visible variation. That sort of wild display is left to the stone’s matrix.
And what a display it is — against the demure white stone, it’s positively flamboyant. I can find no definitive sources as to what, precisely, “it” is. My best guess, considering the regions where the stone is sourced, and the sorts of matrices common to other rocks and minerals in those areas, is that it’s a form of siltstone (sometimes called mudstone). We’ve encountered siltstone on a couple of occasions already: as the “smoky” red-brown matrix in some Bisbee turquoise, as the likely source of the “chocolate” matrix in Royston turquoise, and as the precious deep-red pipestone used to make the pipes and calumets sacred to so many of our peoples. It occurs as matrix in other forms of host rock: sedimentary inclusion that leach into gaps and cracks and crevices and harden over eons, creating a rich brown tracery of lines that we call “spiderweb matrix.”
It looks very much like our own landscape this time of year, as the white snow thaws, slowly shrinking in area to reveal the rich brown silt beneath.
And the little Spirit Bear shown above does display singularly map-like qualities, as though he has emerged, fully formed, from the snow-covered earth. From its description in the Other Artists: Fetishes gallery here on the site:
This mysteriously marbled spirit bear is hand-carved by Jeremy Gomez (Taos Pueblo) of gorgeous spiderweb alabaster. In keeping with his status as a medicine bear fetish, he holds a bundle on his back, one composed of delicate feathers and a tiny piece of turquoise. He stands firmly upon a red cedar base; base and stone alike have been oiled to preserve their beauty. Bear is 3-3/4″ long (excluding feather length) by 2-3/8″ high; base is 4-1/8″ long and adds 3/8″ in overall height (dimensions approximate). Another view shown below.
Spiderweb alabaster; feathers, turquoise; cedar
$60 + shipping, handling, and insurance
He is, of course, one of a clan of five. You can find his siblings here, here, here, and here. Despite the clear family resemblance, each possesses its own unique features and markings.
He also has larger — much larger — cousins: full-sized sculptures in the same spiderweb alabaster, created by another artist from the Pueblo. These members of his extended family comprise a mother and three cubs, two adolescents and one baby bear. They’re available as a set, or individually.
We haven’t seen a bear, spirit or otherwise — yet, anyway. Or, rather, I should amend that to say as far as we know . . . because two days ago, all four horses were thoroughly fixated on something in the south field, something out of our range of vision. Whatever it was, it was moving through the sage and chamisa, low to the ground, and all I could see through the camera viewfinder was a vague impression of something brown and low and solid. It was probably a baby elk down for its afternoon nap . . . but . . . with the winter thaw, it is that time of year . . . .
~ Aji
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