As I write this, today’s sun is finally clearing the peaks of the mountains; the rays now wash the land with a brilliant, if slightly brittle, autumn glow.
This blanketing of our world with pale yellow light won’t last long today. Dark and forbidding clouds have been amassing in the west since first light, and have mortared themselves together into a stern wall of thunderheads. Rain is due, perhaps hard rain, but it will be welcomed with thanks all the same.
Here, we often get rain and sun simultaneously, and never more so than during monsoon season, of which these particular clouds supposedly comprise the stragglers, latecomers on their journey east and north. The mountains frequently wear thunderhead warbonnets, their heads covered entirely by clouds, clothing fringed by pelting rains and girded with a rainbow sash above moccasins made of pure sunlight. These storm warriors will likely put in an appearance, or two, or three, over the course of the day today, allowing us the reap the benefits of the rain while still hanging onto little pieces of sun.
It’s a weather phenomenon not unique to Taos Pueblo by any means, but certainly one that embodies the feel of the place, channeling its famed light in starkly beautiful ways.
Every once in a while, Wings is presented with the opportunity to capture one of those rays of that ethereal light. In this instance, it also allowed him to turn something that might otherwise have been discarded as mere scrap into something beautiful. After all this time, I no longer recall how he came into possession of the bit of brass he used for these: They may have been part of a trade with another Native artist, or of some materials sold by an artist who needed money; both situations occur with regularity. They may simply have been remnants of metal left over from some more practical project. At any rate, he came across the metal remnant last year sometime, and knew that it should not go to waste. He used it to grab one of those rays of the sun, sining through the clouds of a summer storm, and mold and bend and shape it, dividing and multiplying as he went, until he had fashioned two tangible rays that can be touched and held and worn daily.
The first, the one shown above, is as simple as it gets (and about as reasonably-priced, too). From its description in the Rings Gallery here on the site:
Capture the golden glow of the noonday sun and keep it always at hand with this simple brass ring. Traditional symbols accent the center of the clean, elegant band; a Florentine finish creates a warm, diffuse glow. The finger-cuff design keeps it easily adjustable for any finger.
Brass
$95 + shipping, handling, and insurance
The second one is ever so slightly more substantial and detailed, given a hint of shape and slope on either side, reminiscent of the valley just northeast of us where the sunlight pools daily.
From its description:
The pale yellow of the dawn sky on a perfectly clear Pueblo day shines from the surface of this anticlastic ring.
Traditional symbols are hand-stamped down the center of the band; its sides slope gently skyward. The finger-cuff design makes it easily and fully adjustable.
Brass
$105 + shipping, handling, and insurance
They’re both very simple, very elemental: one small band of metal, mostly unadorned. It would be tempting to make an allusion to grabbing the brass ring, but such is not our culture nor our way. These simple bits of sun symbolize not the headlong pursuit of power or fame or glory or material wealth, nor carry the weight of stepping over others in competition to seize a prize.
No, these tiny tangible rays are an expression of thanksgiving, an embodiment of the the sun that lights our path each day, and a means of keeping it close to hand when thunderheads or night descend.
~ Aji
