It is darker here this morning than in recent days: The forecast has moved up the snow’s arrival to later this morning rather than tonight. Even so, a small but solid break in the clouds to the southeast allows a strong sun to shine through, turning the earth gold beneath an otherwise violet sky.
The days are so short now that we must begin evening chores by three-thirty; otherwise, we’ll be consigned to working in the cold dark. And it is cold here; once the sun falls below the horizon, the temperature drops fifteen degrees in a matter of minutes. From there, it’s a speedy descent into the teens, and thence to single digits or less until well after sunrise the next day.
At this elevation, one learns rapidly how essential the light is to warmth, and to survival.
After this year’s relentless drought, a stark aridity in which nothing grew, the snow is welcome, to say the least. Still, it will be months before anything can go into the ground, and longer still before anything rises anew from it. Fro now, as the days mark time downward toward the dark cold depths of winter, our spirits must engage in planting seeds of light.
Yesterday’s new work by Wings brought to mind again a small collection or works from two years ago, all commissioned by a dear friend as holiday gifts for members of her family. One piece in particular captured my attention this day: one of Wings’s signature Corn Maidens, most often cast as pendants but occasionally as pins, meant to honor our friend’s sister and her relationship with her children. The children, too, were recipients, at least the girls; each was to be given a pin in the form of a simple brooch, similar in style but with stampwork designed to fit each young woman’s individual spirit, centered around a stone chosen accordingly. Our friend provided brief descriptions, and Wings chose to go with translucent stones, one amber, one citrine, and one moonstone, as shown in the three round brooches below.
Their mother was to receive a specially-designed pin, one that would incorporate a stone for each daughter, and another one chosen specially to represent her son, as well.
After some contemplation of the challenge, Wings found his thoughts turning to the Corn Maiden. It fit our friend’s description of her relative, a nurturing feminine spirit who plays a significant role in not only birth but the growth and well-being of the land and people. Stylistically, it was also apt, providing as it did a long vertical expanse that would serve well to hold the stones representing her children.
And so, settled on form and shape, Wings set about its creation. He cut the pin, freehand, out of sheet silver, a stylized depiction of a Maiden that adhered to traditional dress while still evoking the notion of spirit forms of existence. Her shape was rather like an arrowhead, or perhaps a spear point: long, slender, tapered but not quite a teardrop, coming to a point at the bottom and flaring upwards to head and headdress at the top. The top was cut in the traditional stepped design of the tablita, the traditional headdress worn by the dancers who personify the Maidens, and by the Maidens themselves in individual depictions. Beneath it, he rounded the sides slightly, then stepped outward a fraction to create what would become the shoulders above the rest of the body. Shape complete, he turned to the stampwork.
The entries in this particular signature series share a commonality of form and shape and general feature, but every one is unique. The stampwork is the key to their individuality (stones less so, if only because this particular pin was one of only three Corn Maidens wrought in this style that I can recall bearing any stones at all; they are usually plain solid silver). He began with the face, using crescent moon shapes for eyes and to create her hair, caught back behind her head in a bun and with traditional bangs; a small round hoop formed her mouth in a fashion common to depictions of both storytellers and spirit beings. More crescents articulated her neckline and served as “jewelry.”
The symbols on the headdress, which would be carved and/or painted in real life, were formed of a series of tiny ratcheted peaks, a motif he uses variously to produce scales or sunrises, but which here gave her headdress the feel of a crown. The radiant effect was topped by three symbols representing, among other concepts, the Four Sacred Directions, a variation on the traditional sun symbol of Zia Pueblo, one placed beneath each of the three crenellated “peaks” of the tablita.
Then he turned to the Maiden’s dress.
At the top, beneath the crescents that formed her neckline, he placed three diamond shapes, evoking Eyes of Spirit. These he surrounded on either side by sunrise symbols, the “rays” turned outward, to give form and shape to what would, in real regalia, be a large gorget or small breastplate. Repeating the peaked motifs from the headdress on the sides, and a few more crescents beneath, gave definition and depth and a sense of both dimensionality and motion. For the middle portion of the body, he chose, again, a variation of the sunrise symbol, this one with light radiating above cloud formations. These he placed parenthetically along either side, creating mass and depth. Beneath, tracing lines toward the feet, he reproduced the same hoop motif that formed the Maiden’s mouth, chasing them in a repeating pattern to form a deep “V.”
Then, beneath the gorget and above the nadir of the “V,” he placed four tiny round bezels in a perfect vertical line. These would hold the stones representing our friend’s nieces and nephew. After soldering them securely into place, he turned the piece over, and soldered the pin assembly vertically to the reverse. He then oxidized all the stampwork and the bezel joins, and polished it to a bare shade off a perfect mirror finish.
Lastly, it was time to set the stones. In this setting, they would hold the appearance, and the symbolism too, of tiny, colorful kernels of corn: seeds planted and nurtured to grown into strong individual plants. Since each “kernel” was to represent a different child, the first three were easy: Amber, then citrine, then rainbow moonstone to match the corresponding cabochons in the young women’s brooches. But what to do for the son?
Wings felt that it was important to maintain the theme of translucence, of seeds as light, but he also felt that the color and type of stone should be suitable for a young man. Our friend’s cultural traditions, like our own, are rather different from those of the dominant culture; certain colors hold particular significance, while others perhaps bear none of the associations that the outside world is accustomed to assigning. For example, in our way, pink is in no way codified as exclusively feminine, nor is it restricted to young girls; in many cultures, it appears in the regalia or traditional dress of men, too, including warriors and spiritual leaders.
And so, searching through his inventory of stones, he hit upon what seemed a perfect jewel: amethyst. A product of the primary colors red and blue, it is seem in some cultures as a stone of leadership. More to the point, its color was bold and intense and yet so clear that the light filtered through it perfectly. This would be the son’s stone.
One the gems were set, all that remained was to bless the piece (as well as the other works) and ship them off to our friend. But while the substance and spirit have traveled far, a bit of the imagery has stayed with us, too, in photograph and in memory.
And on this day, as the gray skies coalesce overhead, turning the pale gray-white of the impending storm and blotting out the sun, this work reminds us of life’s purpose, never more urgent than in these short days and long night in a fast-changing world. There is no better time to go about our task, planting seeds of light.
~ Aji
All content, including photos and text, are copyright Wings and Aji, 2018; all rights reserved. Nothing herein may used or reproduced in any form without the express written permission of the owner.
