This week has been an exploration of, among other themes, the brilliant shades of autumn. At this season, I view them through the lenses of our rapidly changing world: the shift in the light, the turning of the leaves, the ripening of the spectrum of Indian corn.
We have already seen the blues and greens of the blue corn indigenous to this place, as well as the flame reds and oranges more common to the lands of my childhood. Today, by way of one of Wings’s newest works, completed only a couple of days ago, we have the colors of twilight, of the fall thunderstorm, of dried chokecherry leaves and plums ripened the shade of black amethyst and the deep violet kernels of purple corn.
All of those colors are real things, by the way: Here, from monsoon season into winter, purple skies are common in sunset and storm alike. The indigenous chokecherry trees are fast dropping their serrated leaves now, which, before they even leave the branch, have already turned the color of a dark burgundy wine. The wild plums will soon be overripe, but for now, they remain a plump blackened purple, with bits of red and gold here and there — and those black amethysts? They’re a real thing, too, a rare form of amethyst sometimes found in the crystalline form now known under the market name “druzy.”
And then there is the corn.
Every year, when we go to plant Indian corn, we find that the variants have been given new and often wildly hyperbolic names. Among them is the purple corn, which as a practical matter is often purple and yellow and white all in the same ear, the white ranging from snow to ecru, the yellow from a pale shade to that of a bright sun to molten gold . . . and the purple everything from palest lavender to mulberry and maroon to plum, violet, and royal purple. And it’s often labeled “Aztec,” Maya,” or Inca.”
Of course, it’s neither more nor less exclusive to any of those indigenous cultures than any other kind of corn, all of which is said to have originated in what is now known as Central America, thence to have spread northward and southward from there. And, in fact, both Wings’s people and my own, two thousand North American miles apart, have grown purple corn for longer than ancestral memory can recall. But it is true that some of the Andean cultures of the mountainous northern regions of what is now called South America have made the purple corn an integral part of their lifeways and traditional cultures, using it for food, medicine, ceremony, and art (for the last category, particularly as a purple dye for textiles).
Today’s featured work combines the colors of the purple corn — white, lavender, plum, violet — in one unending spiral, one that evokes distinctively different imagery. It’s the symbol of the serpent and the storm, both of which (like the corn) are signs of prosperity and abundance: water, wisdom, well-being, life. From its description in the Bracelets Gallery here on the site:
The Cloud Serpent Coil Bracelet
The cloud serpent is made of water, tendrils of rain uncoiling amidst the thunderheads to bring life to the earth. Wings captures its likeness in this coil bracelet. Cloud-white clam shell heishi disc beads, the color and shape of the fluffy white tops of the thunderheads, anchor it at either end. The center is formed of spiny oyster shell heishi in purple and white, a spectrum that runs from white to lilac to deep violet-black, all the shades of the amassing storm. Each segment is separated by a pair of large round sugilite beads, bright plum-colored orbs with their own wispy cloud-like matrices in white and gold and red. The serpent is strung on memory wire, enabling it to expand and contract to fit virtually any wrist. Joint design by Wings and Aji.
Memory wire; white clam shell heishi; purple spiny oyster shell heishi; sugilite
$225 + shipping, handling, and insurance
For several weeks now, we have nothing remotely resembling a storm — not at all uncommon at this time of year. What has been uncommon are the temperatures, which have on average featured warmer highs than September’s. Coupled with the dry autumn winds, the soil is unusually dry and arid, thirsty for rain. According to the long-range forecast, we may finally see some relief on Tuesday, with current projections at a 40% chance of rain.
Perhaps the spirits of serpent and storm — and maybe even the purple corn — will carry the water to us on the winds. perhaps Wings’s latest work, a tribute to their powers, will provide the encouragement they need.
~ Aji
All content, including photos and text, are copyright Wings and Aji, 2016; all rights reserved. Nothing herein may used or reproduced in any form without the express written permission of the owners.
