The day has dawned mostly gray, skies more suited to a summer’s afternoon here . . . if, of course, there were any normal patterns to maintain.
There are not.
Rain here used to be the near-exclusive province of the afternoon, but the last couple of years, we have gotten more in the overnight hour than at any point while the sun rides high in the sky. Such was the case last night, although the amount that fell was slight, and technically, I suppose, it was the early-morning hours, although at two o’clock, the skies are still full dark.
The forecast insists that we shall have rain today, and again tomorrow, in patterns more closely aligned with what we know here.
We know better than to depend on its presence until it actually falls.
Still, the ravages of climate change and drought have not much altered our patterns of preparation. The rain barrels remain out and clear, that they may catch whatever deigns to fall. Collecting rain is a time-honored tradition here, the water repurposed to feed gardens and fields, crops and trees. And the people of this place have long been known for their skill in creating the tools to make collection and carrying possible, hauling and cooking and serving, too. Clayware here is made of the same local earth that forms the adobe walls of the village, a rich red-gold material shot through with shimmering mica that catches and refracts the light. From cooking and serving bowls to seed and storage jars to the great water jars known as ollas to the spirit plates that are traditionally set out for the ancestors and beings yet more powerful, the Pueblo’s potters make them all, in all shapes and sizes and degrees of polished artistry.
Today’s featured works encompass near all of these categories, but in miniature form — their essence distilled to a size you can hold in the palm of your hand. They are, of course, untreated for eating and drinking use, but no less real and no less powerful for that. And all remind us of the immanent power of the First Medicine, and of the value of collecting rain. All are found in the Other Artists: Pottery gallery here on the site; from their collective description:
Three of Taos Pueblo’s potters create affordable miniatures on a regular basis. All are fashioned in the traditional way from the Pueblo’s iconic micaceous clay: The tiny pots, bowls, and ollas are all hand-coiled in the same manner as full-sized pieces, their only ornamentation the glimmer of the native mica, and fired to varying finishes.
The pieces above and immediately below are by Wings’s cousin, Bernadette Track:
Still available: one wedding vase (not shown; $35); two pots — three two plain; two with the firing “clouds” ($30 each). Wedding vase stands 3.5″ high; pots range from 1-5/8″ to 2-1/8″ high (dimensions approximate).
Wedding vase SOLD
Two pots with firing “clouds” SOLD
Bernadette’s small bowls are classic pots, miniature version of those that would be used for cooking and serving and carrying. She fires them to a relatively high sheen, so that the mica seems less like shimmering chips than a sustained glow throughout the clay. It makes them perfect for use as tiny storage bowls, for seeds or pins or paper clips, seated upon a shelf or a window sill to catch and channel the light.
The second pair of works are my personal favorites among the entire collection, and are by the same artist who created the full-size wedding vases shown at the top of the gallery.
The classic bowl and fluted plate below are by Olivia Martinez:
Both still available ($30 each). Fluted plate is 1″ high by 3″ across; bowl is 1″ high by 2.25″ across (dimensions approximate).
I love Olivia’s work, in full size or in miniature. It shines; it flows. Her lines are graceful, fluid; her finishes, understated, filled with sculptural texture that lets the clay itself speak. Of all the beautiful, powerful, inspired and inspirited miniatures we’ve carried over the years, these two have always been my own favorites.
But traditional pottery is used for purposes both spiritual and very, very practical. In our peoples’ ways, the two inform each other, and are inseparable: The spiritual is woven into our daily lives, and the most quotidian aspects of our lives also play a role in our spiritual practices. They are not discrete aspects of life, but rather, an unbroken hoop, a braid that does not, cannot come entirely undone. So the more practical forms of clayware are every bit as important to traditional life as those used to feed the spirits.
Which brings us to the works by the third of today’s featured artists.
And [to] the vintage-style pieces, reminiscent of functional pottery for daily use, are by Leatrice Gomez:
Olla is sold; pots at left and right still available ($25 each). Pot at left is 1.25″ high by 1.25″ across; pot at right, 1.25″ high by 1-3/8″ across (dimensions approximate).
Leatrice’s work invokes the beauty and power of old ways and forms of creation. The clay is left heavily textured, fired only enough to ensure that each work holds together. There is no adornment here, no high polish , only the purity of the earth and the subtle shimmer of the mica within — a reminder that gifts, including the gift of illumination, is rarely obvious; it must be sought, found, acknowledged, honored.
The same seems to be true of the rain now. Where once it fell daily, seemingly with abandon, now the storm holds it close, leaving the earth parched with drought. Even now, the clouds seem unable to make up their minds: Do they wish to clear the way for turquoise skies, or will they close ranks overhead once more. Today’s works remind us that the old ways, and tools, give us the means with which to meet whatever comes.
Our rain barrels are out, ready for the storm, ready to begin, once more, collecting rain.
~ Aji
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