This morning, the sky was all deep bright blues as far as the eye could see. A few scattered small puffs of white cropped up closer to midday. Now, though, the west/northwest sky is a dirty gray, the product not of the clouds of a buffalo sky but of an ill-advised prescribed burn that appears, in these high winds, to be fast slipping whatever leashes those involved may have had on it.
Yes, the forest lands here need prescribed burns.
No, they cannot be conducted safely when the winds are high, particularly not in a twelve-hundred-year drought.
One of the colonial world’s favorite complaints, whenever anyone points this out, is utter dishonesty: “Well,” they say, “when would you have us do it? It has to be done.”
The answer to that is an obvious one: We would have had you do it years ago, when Indigenous nations were warning you that it needed to be done and you insistently ignored their collective and superior expertise. Now, we all risk the consequences of their deliberate and destructive malfeasance.
Climate collapse was entirely avoidable. The fact that we are caught in its death-grip was very much a deliberate policy choice, one that continues to be made to put colonial authority, control, and profits over even its own survival.
In these weeks when there is no water, when the official forecast continually holds out faint hope only to snatch it entirely away every time, it’s hard to feel good about the world’s chances. That’s all the more true in these days of global genocides, the news overflowing with slaughtered and desecrated bodies accompanied by a torrent of toxic disinformation. But out peoples are long accustomed to the work of standing strong in such circumstances, and we have our models, our guardians and guides, to help us find resilience now.
One such is Buffalo, which this land mass’s colonial populations deliberate drove to the literal brink of extinction in pursuit of doing the same to our peoples. They hoped for full extermination of both; what they got turned out to be something rather different. The buffalo survived, if only just barely back then; now, several among our various nations are ensuring that they thrive, keeping their own herds and protecting wilder herds, as well.
And Buffalo — in some traditions, Elder Brother — has always been honored for his medicine, even when his existence for many was more memory than tangible presence. [Yes, we use the word “buffalo.” The colonial world insists now that we must term these creatures “bison,” but both words are entirely colonial constructs and names. Our names for them are very different, but in English, in our own contexts, “buffalo” is at least as valid as any other English word.]
Our cosmologies remind us daily that every being has its role to play, it’s own immanent power and its own medicine for the world around it. Buffalo is one of those rare beings who, by giving of itself to our peoples, is transmuted into a part of every essential aspect of life itself: food, clothing, shelter, tools, weapons, art, medicine. No part of the animal goes to waste; there is a purpose for every bit of it. And beyond that, Buffalo as archetype, to borrow a colonial word for concepts we might term something like spirit (a word with many meanings) has always inspired the work and art and power of our peoples . . . and always will.
So it should come as no surprise that today’s featured work is centered around Elder Brother’s form and spirit. It should also come as no surprise that we find his power in many places, from the earth of the prairie to the cloud-spangled skies above it, his mane made of thunderheads and the sound of his hooves the thunder itself. They’re skies of hope, resilience, strength, power, and it is this conceptualization of him that animates today’s feature, a masterwork by any measure. From its description in the Necklaces Gallery here on the site:
Buffalo Sky Necklace
We live beneath a Buffalo sky, mane made of dawn, a cloud-webbed blue and a gathering storm riding Thunderbird’s wings in his wake. With this extraordinary old-style collar necklace, Wings pays tribute to our beautiful elder brother, to the skies and the water and the wingéd spirits that drive it to the earth. The necklace consists of no fewer than five separate pendants, three of royal lapis and two of natural Fox turquoise, all set into hand-made bezels saw-cut and stamped entirely freehand, and strung on a cascading strand of coordinating gemstone beads of truly phenomenal quality. The focal pendant is formed of a shield cabochon of royal lapis lazuli in a perfect cobalt blue shot through with the stardust shimmer of iron pyrite, set into aa hand-made scalloped bezel edged with twisted silver, the bezel backing extending beyond in a scalloped pattern reminiscent of Buffalo’s mane, each curl stamped with a single sunrise motif to frame the deep blue of the dawn. Flanking the focal are a pair of gorgeous large ovals of natural Fox turquoise, the stones the shade of the western sky at morning, stippled with “clouds” of off-white host-rock and unusually red patches of iron pyrite matrix. Each is set into its own scalloped bezel edged in twisted silver, the saw-cut bezel backing extending into the same scalloped sunrise motif on all sides. Finally, at either end of the string of pendants, two more incredible square cabochons of royal blue lapis lazuli sit on a bed of dried cedar shavings, framed in scalloped bezels edged in twisted silver, the extended backings rounded with freehand cut-work on all four sides, each tab stamped in old-style feather-fan motifs. Each pendant hangs from a hand-cut, flared bail stamped with a single four-directions motif reminiscent of the famed Zia symbol, the spokes extending around a central heart. Every pendant is framed on the bead strand by a pair of outsized spheres of natural lapis lazuli in chrysocolla, with alternating segments of sterling silver doughnut rondels and either iron pyrite (beneath the lapis) or high-grade turquoise rounds (beneath the turquoise), to allow the bails to sit properly. Connecting each pendant are segments of extraordinary ultra-high-grade royal lapis lazuli orbs, polished so perfectly that their surfaces are nearly translucent, alternating with tiny sterling silver doughnut rondels. Moving upward, the beads form gradients of size and color, consisting of more of the royal lapis alternating with iron pyrite and more of the turquoise (likely Persian, based on color, pattern, and value), with the silver rondels serving as spacers; The whole strand is anchored at either end by sterling silver round beads. The buffalo pendant with bail is 2-3/4″ long; without, 2-1/4″ long by 1-5/8″ across at the widest point; all five bails are 3/4″ long by 5/8″ across at the widest point; the lapis shield cabochon is 1-5/8″ long by 1-1/8″ across at the widest point; the turquoise pendants with bails are 2-3/8″ long; without bails, 1/3/4″ long by 1-5/8″ across at the widest point; cabochons are 1-1/4″ long by 7/8″ across at the widest point; square lapis pendants with bails are 2-1/8″ long; without bails, 1-9/16″ long by 1/3/4″ across; square cabochons are 15/16″ square; bead strand is 26″ long excluding findings, but hangs shorter because of the horizontal space taken up by the pendant arrangement (all dimensions approximate). Other views, including close-ups of each pendant, are shown at the link.
Pendants: Sterling silver; royal lapis lazuli; natural Fox turquoise; dried cedar shavings
Strand: Tri-ply foxtail plated with silver; sterling silver findings
Beads: High-grade old lapis lazuli in chrysocolla; ultra-high-grade royal lapis lazuli;
high-grade blue turquoise (likely Persian); iron pyrite; sterling silver
$4,000 + shipping, handling, and insurance
The cabochon that forms the center is the product of a lapidary style known to the rest of the world as “shield cut.” If you block out the setting and look only at the stone, you’ll see that it resembles the shields at the center of European heraldry, of coats of arms and colors.
None of which have meaning for us.
We look at such a shape and see only one possible image, from horns to mane to tapered muzzle.
And thus was this piece born.
Beyond the center focal, the four flanking pendants are all extraordinary in their own right, and all emblematic of the power of our skies.
The two oval turquoise cabochons were both taken from the same parcel as the one in the cuff that appeared in yesterday’s post, if somewhat deeper in color and bolder in matrix patterning. They’re all pulled from the earth of the Fox Mine in what is now known as Nevada, all from the same deposit, and all a bit different from what those of us long in this field have come to regard as classic Fox turquoise. The white host-rock stippling, like the patchy red siltstone that forms part of the matrix, both are more customarily found in the mines of what the world now calls Arizona . . . and yet the soft beautiful blues and the inky deep blue webbing are both classic Fox despite the other variances. They’re also the perfect counterpoint to the deep cobalt blues that appear on either side of them: daylight alpine desert skies, finely webbed with clouds that may or may not hold water within them.
The square cabochons at either end punctuate the collar strand perfectly, the deep blues of royal lapis shot through with a scattering of both calcite and pyrite, like snowclouds and stardust together. The settings, too, seem just as apt — flared and flanged, as those Eagle’s feathers hold the skies aloft, providing Buffalo and his spirit herd with space to run.
Eagle, too, is a symbol of strength and power, or resilience and hope.
We need that medicine now; so does the whole world. And so while tomorrow’s skies are unlikely to bring us the earlier-promised snow, we offer up our prayers . . . and, like these spirits, these beings who teach and inspire us, we stand back up, and return to the work.
~ Aji
All content, including photos and text, are copyright Wings and Aji, 2023; all rights reserved. Nothing herein may used or reproduced in any form without the express written permission of the owner.
