It appears that our summer monsoon season is here. It’s different this year, though; the usual patterns no longer hold. It’s of a piece with our overall climate patterns, which have become nearly unrecognizeable over the last year or two. Most troubling is the tendency for storms to deliver extreme wind, but virtually no precipitation, with the cells moving around us.
Today, however, the rain has already moved through, a series of small intermittent squalls that brought plenty of thunder, a little hail, and just enough rain the soften the surface of a ground already rebaked hard by temperatures that were by noon past ninety. It wasn’t much.
It will be enough.
There is a way in which, of course, it has to be enough; it’s not as though we mere mortals have any choice in the matter, after all. We command neither the winds nor the rain, not the clouds nor the weather — and, as such elemental spirits have repeatedly made clear to us over the last year and more, the water goes where it will and as it pleases. Our task, then, is to learn to adapt, to accept what is offered and make do with what is given.
But for us, at least, it is enough even in literal, tangible terms. Oh, we would certainly welcome more, but the rains have given us workable soil, suitable for planting and receptive to seeds. The waters from points far above us continue to flow down, and the pond is full to overflowing, permitting irrigation of the fields. The dragonflies have returned to us.
We are fortunate: We are granted the hope of abundance, of fertile visions and love medicine.
And so it is that we come to today’s featured work, a throwback of some seven to nine years. To be frank, I had forgotten this work entirely, but as I was readying the week’s posting schedule in advance, it presented itself to me as though chosen specifically for this day. And in truth, it could not be more apt.
About nine years ago, Wings began a new collection of collectibles, an intermittent signature series of miniature spoons. Such items were popularized by early Native silversmiths of this broader region, and eventually, as the second wave of European colonists moved ever westward, they became collector’s items. Only a few contemporary silversmiths bother with this old style anymore. Wings is one of them.
At any rate, he began with a series of small spoons, largely simple in design, with straight handles and oval bowls. Before long, his creative vision took over form and shape and style completely, sending the results in new directions, from spiral handles to feather shafts to animal heads to overlays. This one combined elements to create a wholly unique version, and to date, it is the only one of its kind in his body of work.
This one began with a bowl that was almost perfectly round, shaped gently like a fat olla, or water jar, the mouth stretching upward into the handle. He left it almost entirely unadorned, choosing to place four bear paws, medicine symbols, at the Four Sacred Directions, then turning it over and doming it ever so slightly from the underside.
The handle was fairly simple, too: a cascade of Eyes of Spirit, also signs of medicine in the form of wisdom, of visions and dreams. These, however, were not created with a single diamond-shaped stamp, as is so often the case. These he constructed out of individual lines, freehand diamonds with each side stamped individually to form the “Eye,” all in a repeating pattern chased the length of the handle. Flowing upward from the medicine symbols in the bowl of the spoon, it produced an effect not unlike linked raindrops, a cascade of visionary wisdom and spirit.
But it was the tip of the handle that gave this work its full identity.
Usually, Wings creates the tips of a piece with the handles, an arrow shaft or animal head cut freehand from the same silver. In this instance, he took the unusual step of cutting a separate piece to size and shape, then stamping it with a few simple curved lines and a pair of open blossoms, all brought together to create a four-winged dragonfly with flowers for eyes. He then soldered it gently onto the tip, the small spirit’s plump body an overlay directly on the handle, the wings stretching outward from side to side in apparent full flutter.
It reminded me of a dragonfly emerging from the spirit world, a being of fertile visions and love medicine, dispatched to fly with the waters and pollinate the earth.
This afternoon, as the clouds parted again momentarily and the sun coaxed steam from the newly damp earth, one of its black and white brothers, a skimmer, danced past me in search of a place to land. We know that his kind are messengers, avatars of love and abundance, and perhaps he brings a little of both to our own small world today.
~ Aji
All content, including photos and text, are copyright Wings and Aji, 2017; all rights reserved. Nothing herein may used or reproduced in any form without the express written permission of the owners.
