It’s summer, the season of love, of life, of growth, of hope. It’s the season of warm blue skies and cool blue waters.
It’s the season of the Dragonfly.
Water spirits. Bringers of love. Agents of change. Messengers. Even a means of protecting the people.
Among the tiniest and most delicate of creatures, dragonflies (and their cousins, the damselflies) play outsized symbolic roles throughout traditional cultures, roles as varied as their own stunning array of colors.
Here in the desert Southwest, their arrival in early- to mid-summer is a welcome sign: It means that moisture is here in one from or another, as well. Climate change has altered their patterns, too; they have been a few recent years where we’ve had few to none. This year, we’ve been fortunate to have them return, and for an extended period: They arrived in late May, along with their butterfly and bee and hummingbird relations, and their numbers have grown steadily since.
Every year, Wings creates a few dragonfly-themed pieces in their honor, but this year, he’s designed pieces that are truly inspired. We’ll highlight one today; the other will appear here tomorrow. But first, let’s explore a little about the tiny, lightning-fast spirits upon which they are modeled, and a little about their significance in some traditional cultures.
DRAGONFLY AND DAMSELFLY
Generally speaking, traditional art and symbolism does not distinguish between dragonflies and damselflies, but tends to group them both under the rubric of “dragonfly.” This section will cover, among other things, the distinctions between the two, but their images throughout the rest of this post (and tomorrow’s) will be used interchangeably under the name “dragonfly.” The photos above are, as nearly as I can tell, of a Common Bluetail Damselfly.
Dragonflies and damselflies belong to the order Odonata, but are classified under two separate suborders. To the naked eye, they look very much alike, but dragonflies are the larger and faster of the two. Differences in wing shape and size, wing placement, and eye spacing are also commonly found between the two suborders.
In Native artistic and symbolic terms, these differences are negligible, to say the least. Their growth patterns, ecosystem roles, and other characteristics and behaviors are more similar than not, and these are the factors that give them their identity and place in traditional cultures and art.
Both dragonflies and damselflies lay eggs in wet locations — sometimes on the surface of water, sometimes on the stalks or leaves of water plants, sometimes entirely submerged. It is this practice that no doubt gave rise to their original association with water. Many sources cite “pure water” as the dragonfly’s symbolic meaning among the Diné (Navajo), although since such sources are not themselves Navajo, the truth of the assertion remains an open question. But it’s easy to see where the connection arises, and why peoples in a desert environment would associate them with fertility and abundance.
It’s also easy to see why, like their butterfly cousins, they might be associated with change and growth: Both dragonflies and damselflies undergo what is known as partial metamorphosis. They begin life hatching from eggs, emerging as “naiads,” or aquatic nymphs, and this is the stage at which the majority of their lives are spent — depending on the species, from two months to as long as five years. Naiads live beneath the water’s surface, catching food with their jaws and breathing through gills.
As an aside, about that food: A major source is mosquito larvae. Now, compared to my home lands, we have very little problem with mosquitoes here, even in a bad year. But climate change is altering all sorts of environmental factors, and mosquito-borne diseases are no exception. Equine West Nile virus and equine encephalitis both have been on the rise in New Mexico, as elsewhere, in recent years. We have to be concerned not only about our health, but about that of our animals. And so creatures for whom mosquitoes are natural prey are especially welcome here.
But you’ll recall that I mentioned that the dragonflies arrived early this year? Perhaps they knew something we didn’t. The early arrival of the monsoon season has meant a wetter summer than usual, and although we had no foreknowledge of this year’s specific weather pattern and the influx of mosquitoes it would bring, perhaps our tiny brilliant friends did.
Once the naiads are ready to mature into adults, they begin the metamorphic process by climbing up the stalk of a reed or other water grass or plant. Once fully out of the water and exposed to air, the nymph begins to breathe, a process that causes its larval skin to open and shed, exposing the fully-winged dragonfly or damselfly underneath. At metamorphosis, they are ready to fly, and will live as much as another half-year, depending on size and species. It’s a powerful act, and a powerful symbol for change and growth and self-actualization.
DRAGONFLIES IN NATIVE IMAGERY
The dragonfly motif is one that appears frequently in Southwestern Native art, ancient and modern, and in media ranging from Indian jewelry to pottery to fetishes and other carvings to painting and other art forms. It’s especially popular among the various Pueblo peoples, including the Hopi in what is now Arizona, and among the Diné.
Part of its popularity no doubt stems from its association with water, discussed above. For desert peoples, as we’ve discussed here on many occasions already, water is life, a sacred element, a blessing of Spirit. Any being so closely associated with it, particularly in a way that involves the actual spawning of life and growth into adulthood, is bound to carry powerful symbolism.
That association may also be one reason why dragonfly imagery appeared so frequently on ancient pottery, such as ollas, or water jars. Honoring spirits associated with birth, growth, and life in general seems a natural choice for people going about the daily tasks of getting water, cooking, serving, eating, and drinking.
Such connections were likely very much in Wings’s subconscious thoughts as he designed the piece above, sold some four years ago to a dear friend who bought it as a gift for her mother. The oval Skystone was a brilliant sky blue with just a hint of green, evoking summer waters; the braided tail and curved antennae gave it a sense of motion, of actual flight. But the stampwork on the wings was something unique and entirely its own. Separate individual stamps in sunrise, crescent moon, and sacred hoop patterns, all in a repeating pattern on extended oval wings, joined together to form an image greater than the sum of its parts: another symbol of life, of food, of sustenance, embodied in four fish. I don’t think it was planned; I think it took shape on its own, from his mind and spirit directly to his hands, to create a complex and multi-layered expression of related symbols.
It’s one of my favorite pieces, and it found the home for which it was intended.
But there’s one form of symbolism that most people don’t recognize. And it’s a direct outgrowth of and response to the threat of colonialism and conversion. It looks a bit like this (one of Wings’s old pieces, sold many years ago):
A common symbol found in jewelry half a millennium ago (and since) was a Sacred Directions pattern (usually four), a cross of sorts. When the Europeans invaded, with their swords and their own crosses, one of their first orders of business was, of course, conversion (right after theft, spiced with some rape and pillage and murder, of course). And conversion provided for all sorts of useful results: It would wipe out the old spiritual traditions, true (or so they hoped), but it would also impose their own particular caste and class systems upon the indigenous population, providing an effective means to keep our ancestors “in their place” — which is to say, subjugated. More, a refusal to convert would provide a useful pretext for carrying out genocidal campaigns. After all, colonial settlement is much less fraught with guilt when there are fewer reminders that one is squatting on someone else’s land.
And so conversion efforts proceeded apace with the institutionalization of the rest of the colonial framework. In some areas, even agreeing to conversion was insufficient: The Church’s representatives demanded the unequivocal surrender and destruction of all sacred objects and symbolic reminders of the old ways.
What to do? With at least one symbol, the answer presented itself in the form of Dragonfly.
The old sign of the Sacred Directions was retained, but altered: the southern spoke elongated to create, instead of a cross of equal spokes, a crucifix of the European Church. A second horizontal spoke was added near the center, just beneath the original.
What did it create? Dragonfly.
And what, in that sense, did Dragonfly represent?
The Six Directions, of course: Dragonfly can, under his or her own power, fly forward; backward; upward; downward; sideward to the left; and sideward to the right. North; South; East; West; and depending on the tradition, Above and Below, or Outward and Inward.
Dragonfly appears; the spiritual tradition is saved, and so are The People.
Today, Wings brought a new version of Dragonfly into being. Meet Vision’s Wings:
Keep Dragonfly’s spirit close to your heart as a reminder that wisdom and power come in all shapes and sizes. His body is sterling silver half-round wire, cut and shaped by hand. The segmented body is created by a chased pattern of meticulously-matched stamps, all formed by tiny individual strikes administered by hand in a diamond pattern — the sign of the Eye of Spirit, or of wisdom and vision. The diamond/Eye of Spirit pattern repeats across each of the four wings, likewise made by hand. Dragonfly’s own eyes are a matched pair of Sleeping Beauty turquoise cabochons, the clear blue of the summer sky and the water that keeps us all alive.
Sterling silver, Sleeping Beauty turquoise
$495 + shipping, handling, and insurance
Tomorrow, more on Dragonfly and his meanings and significance, by way of companion piece — a really spectacular companion piece.
~ Aji
All content, including photos and text, are copyright Wings and Aji, 2015; all rights reserved. Nothing herein may used or reproduced in any form without the express written permission of the owners.
