Edward Bulwer-Lytton gets the credit, or the blame, as the case may be, for one of the most archetypal phrases in literature. “It was a dark and stormy night” isn’t nearly as bad as the self-appointed critics make it out to be; only a bit . . . well, plain. Ordinary, even. And no, “dark” and “night” are not by definition redundant, even if the anti-adjective crowd would try to persuade you otherwise.
For today, the skies are bright and sunny, although rain and even the possibility of snow are forecast for Monday. It will be very much a Johnny-come-lately for us; here, the whole week has been dark and stormy, to say the least, although most of that has been metaphorical. The only thing close to a literal storm has been the persistent trickster wind, and even the nights have been floodlit by the moon in cloudless skies. In this place at this moment, both darkness and storm inhabit the widening haloes of grief and loss, and they will be with us for some time to come.
And yet, over the last two nights, the skies have seemed brighter than ever, perhaps infused with the light of their newest spirit. The full moon, not, according to colonial “experts,” any sort of supermoon, here seemed larger, closer, brighter, more radiant than most of those of recent months so fabulously labeled by those same experts.
The sun, too, has done extraordinary duty these last days, setting our whole small world ashimmer through a veil of pollen and smoke, finding the rhythm of a fiery dance with the clouds at sunset before turning the skies over to the diamond beadwork of the stars at twilight. In the darkest hours, in the fiercest storm, we can still count upon the emergence of the light.
Today’s featured work embodies both object and act, at least to the extent that “the light” can be regarded as an “object.” We label it as a noun, a thing, but in fact it is a force unto itself, simultaneously elemental power and animating spirit. It keeps our world alive, and us with it, and a bit of it has been caught by the earth and distilled into today’s masterwork. From its description in the relevant section of the Bracelets Gallery here on the site:
Light In the Storm Cuff Bracelet
It is in the eye of the storm that we are afforded a glimpse of its passing, when the clouds part momentarily to let the light descend. Wings has captured the glow of those rays in this anticlastic cuff, as big and bold as the storm itself, as bright as the light that transcends it. The band is wrought of sixteen-gauge sterling silver, heavier than usual for the shaping required of an anticlastic band, and sloped gently upward on either side. Its surface is free of adornment save a row of chased traditional symbols that run its entire length: stylized thunderheads paired together at their bases to form a sig of the Four Sacred Directions, each mated pair embracing an Eye of Spirit, that which watches over us even in the fiercest storm. At its center, elevated upon a small sterling silver cylinder, rests another representation of Spirit’s Eye: the light itself, caught and held fast in a massive cabochon of dove-gray labradorite. The stone possesses breathtaking depth and clarity, shot through with angled inclusions like sheets of rain and refracting the light into a gold-tinged rainbow of color. Hand-stamped stars of various shapes and sizes spread stardust along the cuff’s inner band. Band is 1-11/16″ across; cabochon is 1-3/4″ long by 11/16″ high (dimensions approximate). Other views shown below. First in Wings’s new series, The Light Collection.
Sterling silver; labradorite
$1,800 + shipping, handling, and insurance
Our peoples’ traditions are filled with stories of emergence: into the light, the birth and rebirth of the people, of their world. It’s a story that is replayed and re-enacted every day, in the most ordinary of ways — in the emergence of the light, each day, each moon, each year reborn anew.
It’s a cycle that no night, no storm can break.
Some days, no matter how bright the sun, the light is hard to find. But its great gift is that is always there, illuminating and warming our world, allowing us to breathe, ensuring our survival, whether we perceive it or not.
It’s easy, in fact, to take it for granted, simply because it is always there.
But the darker times give us the chance to rediscover, to take notice and appreciate . . . indeed, to honor and give thanks for the emergence of the light.
~ 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.
