The last so-called workday of a difficult week.
Of course, that doesn’t apply here; every day is a workday for us. There are no weekends, no holidays, no vacations from the chores that keep this place alive and well, nor from the need to support ourselves financially in doing it. But there is still something psychologically affecting about the knowledge that Friday is here, a feeling of outside pressures winding down, even if only momentarily, allowing us to focus on the tasks at hand here.
And the tasks keep mounting.
The irony is that on some level, our peoples have always known these days would come. The holy people among our various ancestors foretold it centuries ago, prophets who warned what would happen if colonizers invaded these lands, an act that is by definition one conducted in bad faith. They warned, too, of the damage to this Earth of and for which we are born: destruction, disaster, disintegration, devastation.
We are living those days now.
But the prophets also foretold of alternative endings, of contingent results and second chances to get it right. And throughout the centuries, the signs have been handed down to us, so that if prophecy comes to pass, we will know what is required of us and be able to act to save our world.
For our cousins on the plains far to the north, one such sign is the birth (and survival) of a white buffalo. It’s a story that is braided deeply into their origin stories and cosmologies, one that is theirs alone . . . and yet, Indigenous peoples all over this land mass recognize the power inherent in it, just as we recognize the power in our own. When word spread, long ago, of the power and import of the white buffalo, Native peoples everywhere were quick to recognize its significance. Of course, buffalo were a common brother to many of our peoples since the dawn of time; many still work to preserve and protect this great being, and are of course aware of the genetic variations found in their ranks and the rarity of these great white-coated creatures. And so it is perhaps natural that the imagery of the white buffalo has become, in some respects, a continent-wide symbol of sovereignty and of liberation.
Today’s featured work, by local artists Wings has known and supported for decades, is an example of this motif. James (Elk), a leatherworker from Taos Pueblo of incredible talent and skill, is the drum maker; his wife Dolly, who is from Zuni Pueblo, is the artist who paints the hides that cover them. This piece is one that honors the sacred imagery of the white buffalo, but also the imagery of the Sacred Directions, of the whites of the clouds edged with the red of the fire, all rendered in beautifully traditional fashion. From its description in the Other Artists: Drums gallery here on the site:
This hand drum is handcrafted by master drum-maker Elk Good Water of Taos Pueblo. Measuring roughly 14.5″ across, the hide is stretched over a wooden frame; traditional wood and leather beater included. Hand-painted artwork, of four Sacred White Buffalo placed at the Four Directions, by his wife, Dolly Concha (Zuni Pueblo).
$375 + shipping, handling, and insurance
Unlike the drum featured in this same space last week, this is no upright; it’s a hand drum, designed explicitly for personal, individual use, but no less traditional for that. The upright Pueblo drum is an ancient instrument, one used for all sorts of traditional purposes here, but so, too, is the hand drum: for individual singing or for community events, alone or in the company of others; for dance and romance, for celebration and ceremony. There are many different methods of hand drum construction, and they vary widely by region and culture. Here, the hollowed-trunk single-piece version and the fitted-pieces style like this one are both used. Round hand drums tend to be created in the former fashion, but octagonal and other shapes of course require fitting pieces of wood seamlessly together with the kind of experiential skill that ensures a resonant sound.
The other attribute that makes hand drums attractive to those who play them is the ease with which they can be personalized. Indigenous players often do all of their own construction and painting, and other work in their creation, but such practices (including the accompanying spiritual practices) are unavailable to non-Native outsiders. Absent that last step (and it’s always absent that last step for non-Native drummers), most prefer to buy them from actual Indigenous drum makers who at least are likely to know what images are permitted and still hold the inherent musical power of the drum.
The design of this one happens to embody an ancient prophecy, but also all the beauty and powerful variation of our natural world.
It’s a world worth saving. The question now is not if prophecy comes to pass, but when. These are those days: Weekdays, weekends, holidays, all require us to be be present now. All the work of restoration and reclamation and rehabilitation awaits us, and our world.
~ Aji
All content, including photos and text, are copyright Wings and Aji, 2021; all rights reserved. Nothing herein may used or reproduced in any form without the express written permission of the owner.
