On this first day of summer, solstice not quite arrived as I write, our world hear feels less gathered in the light than enfolded in a haze of smoke. It’s a combination of smoke from wildfires to west and south and that of various controlled burns, all of which we can only hope will be brought well under control before the wind rises.
For today, the winds are expected to be those of spring, not summer.
On this day when Mother Earth is expected to most fully inhabit her gifts of the season, we find ourselves at the mercy of the elements in unusual ways. It feels not so much like confusion on the parts of such powers as exasperation, perhaps even anger. And even as the Earth indulges — conspires with? — them in their chaos and caprice, still, she bestows her blessings upon her children all the same.
Our cultures are filled with such feminine spirits: maternal, fertile, as knowing as they are nurturing, bringers of beauty and of wisdom besides. Today’s featured work embodies one such spirit found in one of the Pueblo cultures west of here: Crow Mother, a maternal and matriarchal katsinam of Hopi. From its description in the Other Artists: Wall Art gallery here on the site:
Josh Aragon (Hopi/Laguna) is best known for his katsinam, figures carved in the traditional fashion out of a single piece of cottonwood root. Sometimes he puts his carving skills to work in other media, creating carved paintings on wood instead of canvas. In this one, Crow Mother stands within her traditional case mask, wrapped in a blanket accented with ancient symbols. The paints used include natural dyes; the piece stands 7.25″ high by 6.25″ across (dimensions approximate).
Wood; paint
$125 + shipping, handling, and insurance
I halted my writing, of course, to go and greet the moment of the solstice, to welcome summer, in prayer. And at the very moment of the turning of the seasons, the wind rose, as predicted: Skies and air have begun to clear, ever so slightly. In Josh’s work, above, it feels as though Crow Mother is gathering the light in her shawl, enfolding her children in it.
Perhaps, as a spirit less of the earth than of the air, she flies today. And perhaps, just perhaps, she is conspiring with Mother Earth to enfold us in the robes of summer, gathered in the light.
~ Aji
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