Our weather is as capricious as Coyote himself today.
We were granted a brief and bare snowfall last night — the merest dusting only, mostly graupel, and frankly not much more upon the peaks. Since dawn, we have had clouds and sun, snow and sleet, winds gusting to the fifty-mil-per-hour mark, and an increasingly bone-deep cold. Five minutes ago, the sun ad broken through the clouds to the rest, setting the land, bare once more, alight; now, the snow is flying again on the horizontal, failing to stick not for any lack of cold but rather because the wind is driving it ever onward .
We welcome the arrival of real winter, but it would be nice to have a real snow, the kind that sticks around long enough to do some good for the land.
Alas, this is a La Niña year, several years into what is now a twelve-hundred-year drought, and now we must grateful for anything at all.
At the moment, it’s good to see the snow fly, even if the earth remains stubbornly brown beneath its sideways path. The peaks are at the moment enshawled by heavy clouds, and it’s hard to tell whether they will get anything more, to speak of, than we do here. But the spirits of winter are here, including those of air and light. Right now, that tends to be the wild birds, and the ravens and crows, magpies and blackbirds, juncos and small finches and chickadees are here in abundance. But so, too, are the odd summer spirit: I caught a photo this morning of one of the family of goldfinches that has thus far chosen to stay in residence with us in this cold season.
There are, of course, no butterflies now, still less dragonflies, but the goldfinches remind us that their appearance, given the catastrophic climatic changes colonialism as already wrought, are not out of the question for winter any longer.
This week’s Friday Feature summons to the dance these spirits for all storms and seasons — yes, those who are accustomed to floating upon warmer winds, but also those like the deer who are with us year-round . . . or perhaps a small herd of doe elk and yearlings, which in this place are most definitely cold-weather residents alongside us. In this Friday series for this final month of the year, we are highlighting wall art, paintings and pastels and other graphic arts in our inventory, and this one is a masterpiece. From its description in the Other Artists: Wall Art gallery here on the site:
Renowned Comanche artist Tim Saupitty created a matched pair of air-spray paintings in watercolor hues, images of a man and woman in full traditional dress. The male figure remains in Wings’s private collection; he has put the female figure on offer. Whether viewed as a dancer or a bride, she is wholly traditional, with beaded buckskin cape, light blue shawl, eagle-feather fan, and eagle plume in her long braided hair; the spirits of deer and dragonflies dance all around her. The colors are simultaneous delicate and bold, the stylized human figure the artist’s hallmark; the interplay of light and shadow surrounds her with beauty and mystery and spiritual power. The entire image, including frame, is 38 inches high by 30 inches wide; the visible portion of the painting is 29.5 inches high by 21.25 inches wide (dimensions approximate). Close-up and full views shown below.
Note: This piece sustained mild water damage in the lower left corner and back due to a leak in the 1,000-year-old gallery in which it once hung. It has accordingly been reduced in price by nearly 50%.
Textured paper; air-spray paint; wood frame with glass
$2,500 + shipping, handling, and insurance
Permanent markdown: Reduced to $1,500 + shipping, handling, and insurance
Note: Size and fragility require special handling; extra shipping charges apply
This piece is extraordinary, although those familiar with Tim Saupitty’s work would expect nothing less. He is one of the modern masters, and years ago, Wings acquired two of his air-spray paintings, a matched pair: one of a male dancer, garbed in rich blue; and this one, of a woman dancer carrying the traditional shawl on n blue and robed in a buckskin cape. His attention to the smallest traditional details is nothing short of remarkable, but it is the interplay of color and shadow, form and light that truly make both pieces the masterworks that they are.
Some years back, Wings decided to put this one on offer, although he has not yet found himself ready to part with the other painting. It hung in our gallery, an adobe home in the old village that has stood in its present form for more than a thousand years. For a time, it occupied a central space on the kiva fireplace flue, perfect for its bold size and beauty.
And it was perfectly safe, through all seasons and weather.
And then, climate change began to make itself known to us in real time. At the end of 2008, we received three feet of snow in roughly thirty-six hours, and then the mercury dropped well below zero for the next two weeks. That, as it happens, is perfectly normal here. What happened next was not.
In January of 2009, the temperature did not slowly rise; it skyrocketed, going from lows below zero to highs well into the sixties in a matter of a day or so. Three weeks of such weather turned three feet of snow-turned ice into rivers of mud, and made the village plaza impassable. The ice had made it impossible to shovel the roofs properly beforehand, and the moment the mercury rose, everything began to melt. These thousand-year-old homes are strong and solid, but nothing could stand up to that weight of snow and ice turned suddenly to water.
In our gallery, as in so many others that year, the water wreaked its havoc rapidly. One of the most affected areas in ours was the north side of the flue, just around the corner from its east frontage, where this painting hung. But Wings could not get in to rescue anything; the rivers of mud had made everything impassable.
And so this beautiful work became, in its own way, another small casualty of climate change.
The damage is not terrible. It’s largely unnoticeable, but it’s there: a corner of the canvas, lightly water-stained; a section of the paper backing the frame torn. And so Wings took 40% off the price, right off the top.
It’s a masterwork by any measure, and at the moment, it sits safely ensconced in our home. Tim’s work with color and light catches the light through the windows, making it seem as though the small wild spirits that surround the maiden are in fact dancing. And I never notice the water stain now; indeed, I have to go looking for it.
Now, as I write, the weather has shifted yet again: heavy large flakes driving hard and horizontally from the northwest, in enough volume to begin whitening the earth beneath. The sky is white on all sides, too, only snow as far as the eye can see.
Perhaps we shall have a little water for the land after all.
We certainly have spirits for all storms and seasons now.
~ 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.
