Late last night, a cold north wind streamed down between the peaks, turning what had been an exceptionally warm evening into something more wintry. This day, the unseasonal warmth is back, no need for a jacket or even sleeves. But the wind still whispers rumors of the water’s return, carrying a promise of a change in the weather to come,. After so many consecutive days of perfect clear blue, today’s skies are veiled with thin translucent bands of gray, and the light behind them has assumed a distinctly yellow cast.
There is a storm gathering now.
Whether we shall actually see any of it is an open question still, but the forecast has suddenly altered, too, predicting a small but decent chance of rain or snow tomorrow and a more sizeable one for the three days thereafter. The mercury is set to plunge as much as thirty degrees, too — to temperatures frankly more fitting for the first of March at eight thousand feet.
For now, though, that means that despite the warmth, there is weatherizing to do, hay and wood to be covered, other preparations to make. We may get not so much as a drop of rain or a single flake, but we can’t afford to take that chance.
Besides, we may get lucky. The rumors of the water’s return may prove true after all.
This week’s featured #ThrowbackThursday work dates back only some four and a half months, to the latter half of last October. It was one of the gifts that Wings created for my birthday last year, and came as a complete surprise; usually, I have some inkling that he’s working on something, if not exactly what, but I had no idea about this one. And it’s one to symbolize the season of rebirth, the return of the snow, of the water, and of the light.
Last summer and fall, Wings had been working with a variety of small stamps interspersed with patterns formed by larger ones that he made himself. The latter were largely symbolic of water and light: flowing curves and sweeping arcs, the kind perfect to frame the smaller repeating patterns that had captured his imagination. It was also convenient: I have unusually narrow wrists, which means that I rarely wear wide, heavy cuffs, and he had one piece of lightweight, flexible silver left over that was the perfect size for me. It became a matter of scaling back the freehand design work he used in cuffs like those here and here, and creating one that would suit me in both size and spirit while retaining the complex microstamping patterns.
He began with the plain silver and the curved, gently sweeping homemade stamps, creating criss-crossing arcs across the center and on either side. The two crossed lines at the very top center of the band, shown in the image above, would ultimately evoke a tipi or lodge design, poles crossed with a base wider than the top; it’s a symbol that’s meaningful for me even on its own.
He then chose a series of small stamps, each formed in a simple, traditional motif: open-ended arrowhead points; lodge and lightning motifs; stylized points that, repeated, create an effect like waves upon water; flowing and geometric patterns; and, as shown above, stylized hearts. Between each hand-scored line, he chased a repeating pattern of a different small symbol. The result was a scape that reminds me of the imagery of my own homelands: the symbols of the great waters, of shelter in the storm, and of the love that binds our worlds together.
Once the stampwork was complete, Wings trimmed the edges and shaped the ends, filing them all smooth. He then oxidized all the complex scorework and stampwork and oxidized the cuff to medium-high polish, just enough to render the stampwork in sharp relief.
This is a place where the adage about water being life is so much more ancient, and so much more urgent, than any slogan or platitude. That’s more true than ever now. But my own lands, along the shores of the greatest of lakes, now find themselves subject to drought in a land not merely born of water but living with and, indeed, in it. And as a child of the storm who misses the sight and sounds and scents of those great freshwater seas, it returned the waters to me in a very real way, one animated by love and spirit alike.
This piece has, as it happens, become one of my favorites. I wear nearly every single time I go anywhere: It’s lightweight, comfortable, a perfect fit for my wrist. But more than that, its symbolism is a perfect fit for my spirit — and now, living as we do in a world beset by a twelve-hundred-year drought, it feels as though it holds almost talismanic power. It is certainly work of love, and of hope.
Speaking of hope, this evening there are still weather-changing clouds trailing across the western sky. Despite the ethereal golden light of the sunset shining through their veil. the forecast has been updated to suggest rain or snow early tomorrow, too. Perhaps the rumors of the water’s return will prove true after all.
~ Aji
All content, including photos and text, are copyright Wings and Aji, 2022; all rights reserved. Nothing herein may used or reproduced in any form without the express written permission of the owner.
