We were granted a spectacular light show twice last night: once at sunset, when the fire in the sky foretold the storm to come, and again at the set of a heavy horned harvest moon, as orange as any sun and dusted with the tiniest of flurries as it descended to its rest. The dawn arrived today in shades of amber and peach and coral and rose, all backlit by shimmering silver against the fading blue of night, and now the skies are flawlessly clear, herald to the light of an emergent sun.
The sun, of course, is not all that will be emergent in the days to come. Today’s high is projected to hit only the mid-thirties, but Sunday, they say, will see us gain fifty on the thermometer outside the door. Those are temperatures for early May, and this is, at least for for this day, still January.
As I noted yesterday, fuzzy catkins are already opening on the smaller aspens. I have heard, many times in recent days, the song of small birds sun only in spring. There have been many moments lately when even the dogs have sung, whether in harmony with coyotes too distant for human ears to hear, or some other being that remains stubbornly silent to us two-legged types.
The bears will emerge soon, too, if they have not already.
It’s a mixed blessing, at best, the annual reappearance of these great creatures. In a place now thoroughly colonized and steadily overdeveloped, visibility puts them always at risk. Last year, to points north and east of here, we lost one to colonial ignorance and arrogance. Roads and vehicles present other dangers, as do a lack of food and [un]seasonal temperature shifts that beckon them out into a world unready for foraging.
Still, Bear is sacred, a spirit of power and medicine, one that we honor for many reasons and in just as many ways. Bear grease is an old traditional remedy, still in use today for healing and for pain, as well in more ceremonial contexts. Bear hides, of course, are warmth and comfort. Their physical prowess and fierce defense of their young provides us with a model for protecting our own. And their great paws and claws, combined with their innate sense of accuracy, are perfect for finding and harvesting the perfect medicine at any given moment.
And once in a while, you meet a bear who channels the sun, who captures its orange glow and sends it back out into the world on radiant sherds of light.
That’s true of any bear, incidentally, if you happen to catch sight of one, coat sleek and full, in the full light of a high desert sun. But today’s featured work, Bear distilled to a comprehensible size and a still-powerful essence, takes the challenge more literally. From its description in the Other Artists: Sculpture gallery here on the site:
This alabaster medicine bear by master carver Mark Swazo-Hinds (Tesuque Pueblo) is hewn in the classic vintage Southwest Indian style. The surface is smooth, silky, and touchable, in a brilliant clear orange with a translucent white marbled matrix. In Mark’s trademark style, the medicine bundle is made of macaw and turkey feathers, shells, pottery sherds, and bits of turquoise. The bear is 6″ long by just over 2″ high; the bundle extends 4-6″ beyond the back end of the bear (dimensions approximate).
Orange alabaster; turkey feathers; macaw feathers; pottery sherds; turquoise; shells
$425 + shipping, handling, and insurance
Requires special handling; extra shipping charges apply
This has always been my favorite among all the works by Mark that we’ve carried over the years. I love Bear, yes, for oh, so many reasons, but this one is special, and it all has to do with the medium. I’ve seen a lot of orange alabaster over the years, but never a specimen like this. This looks like orange calcite in its most spectacular form, brilliantly jagged gradients of color like literal sherds of pure dawn sunlight. Placed out into natural light, and its color not only intensifies but takes on a mystical translucent quality, one that filters the light and refracts it back out into the world from the centering warmth of its own glow. And, as always, it’s wrought in Mark’s characteristic clean lines that allow the spirit in the stone to speak.
Now, at midday, the sun is high in a cloudless turquoise sky. The amber and orange shades will not return until day’s end, a final gift from the light as it departs, a reassurance that it will return again tomorrow. Winter is not over yet — there is more snow to come, and soon — but the world of this new year, like the new cubs soon to be abroad with their parents, still grows in the light of an emergent sun.
~ Aji
All content, including photos and text, are copyright Wings and Aji, 2020; all rights reserved. Nothing herein may used or reproduced in any form without the express written permission of the owner.
