We’ve been looking at the color spectrum this week, rainbows and what lies at either end of the light.
Today, we meet a spirit who dances across the arc of the light itself.
We’ve actually introduced you to him before: on the day he first took corporeal form, when he was, unbeknownst to Wings, still emerging from his chrysalis of other spiritual worlds; and on the day he finally came fully into himself.
As I said when he first take shape, on the morning after that day in early November when we as collective citizens and our entire political system failed each other once again:
Now, this day, when we need inspiring and inspiriting, when we need the blessings and power and force of Spirit itself, it seems time to bring him out to dance.
. . .
At the moment, he sits high atop a shelf, gazing down upon us as he dances his eternal dance. He embodies power: There’s a visceral urge to touch him, to feel the animating forces of antler and hair and feather, to touch the inspiriting symbols tattooed into his silver body. He feels alive, this tiny being — alive with a force we feel but only dimly recognize, one we aspire to touch, but reach only fleetingly on the transparent tendrils of smoke and dreams.
Perhaps the dance is the message for this day: that the dance is eternal. It is the only way forward: to keep going.
No matter how difficult the steps, how heavy the dress, how uneven the heartbeat of the drum, we must dance: Today, tomorrow, for eternity.
It was an extraordinarily difficult day, one filled with losses for the country as a whole, and in many cases, for our peoples specifically. I remember the feelings of dejectedness, of despair and despondency, of the feeling that can be summed up in two words: “Why bother?”
We know better, of course. But sometimes, the spirit needs that bit of indulgence in momentary apathy to be able to renew itself once again, whether for the fight or for the dance. In my experience, the two are one.
And so on that day, I picked up this small spirit being brought forth by Wings’s hands: I turned him around and around looking at him from all sides, feeling the gentle touch of his eagle feather, the deep stampwork of his head and shoulders, the age-smoothed texture of his body and legs, the warm solidity of the cedar upon which he danced. Incomplete though he may have been at the time, he held raw power, the sort that reminds one that this is a sacred hoop, that we all travel it, and that whatever roadblocks we meet along the path, we must do as our ancestors did and forge ahead.
Of course, as humans, our lives tend to be very much about maintaining the illusion of control, of directing our lives both individually and collectively. We have far less ability to do that than we like to pretend, existing s we now do in a globalized cross-cultural matrix of networked and competing an overlapping and undermining interests. And so as we have to pick and choose our battles carefully, so, too, do we need to remember to make time for the dance, to allow it to flow naturally from our feet and bodies and spirits.
It requires us to function both in the contemporary world, and as a bit of a throwback — yet, that has become who we are in this modern era, and what we do. it’s why we say that we walk in two worlds: There is no other option left to us, and yet we still must find a way to allow Spirit to guide our steps.
It’s a lesson Wings learned long ago in his art. It’s why, too, he was not afraid to alter his original vision of this spirit dancer, to help bring him more fully into to who he was supposed to be. As I wrote at that time:
The creative process is rarely linear. On those unlikely occasions when it does seem to flow in a straight line, it’s perhaps better attributable to serendipity than to industry, to synchronicity than to agency. As any artist or writer will tell you, what’s initially conceived, perhaps amorphous and barely formed or articulated when work begins, may bear little to no relationship to what results.
More often, the relationship is clear, but the object undergoes several stages of revision and refinement. Sometimes it occurs as the work proceeds, sub- or even wholly unconsciously; sometimes it occurs after a work is “finished,” hours, days, weeks, months, even years later, as the creator realizes that something in it has not been fully actualized.
Wings has always said that Spirit guides his work, and that he does his best to let that happen. He says that when he tries impose too much rigid control on the process, attempting to adhere to an arbitrary initial vision — in other words, to force it — it never works. It doesn’t allow for a piece’s natural evolution, nor for Spirit to speak through the work, and inevitably, the piece itself doesn’t work.
More often, though, it’s less a question of forcing a particular result than one of simply allowing that process of natural evolution. It’s not a contest of control; it’s more akin to a force that flows much like a river. On some days, it meanders slowly, allowing one to feel the waves of each turn and bend, to reflect on the life within and without. On others, it’s the rushing force of rapids, carrying one along with such speed and power that all you can do is go with it, even if it sends you over the falls. Most of the time, it’s somewhere between the two; the artist knows, deep down, when the end of that river has been reached, or when there remain bends yet to navigate, falls yet to descend to stiller waters below.
And so it is with one of Wings’s recent pieces: one he thought was complete, and, indeed, seemed so to me as a mere observer. Wings, however, listens, and when the spirit of a piece speaks, he hears.
And so, this spirit being underwent a transformation: not a large one, but a significant one. From its description in the Collectibles Gallery here on the site:
Kachina Mixed-Media Figure
He’s an elder among elders, a dancer, a long-haired spirit being. This figurative piece combines multiple natural elements with an inspiriting sense of motion to create a single dynamic, unifying form. Head and upper body are hand-crafted of sterling silver bearing images of power: His head bears the forces of the sacred directions; his body, elemental forces meeting in the sacred space. His lower body is a single very old piece of deer antler that diverges naturally into the two prongs that form his dancing legs. His traditional long hair is made of genuine horse hair, restored to him in the spirit world now full and dark. Like his namesakes in the spirit world, he wears an “eagle” feather at the back of his head (in this case, produced by one of our Barred Rock chickens and carried by the winds directly into Wings’s hands), accented by the brilliant blue and orange macaw feather used traditionally here. Both feathers and a rainbow-hued strand of old-style beads hang from the crown of his headdress, an old copper tube bead; he stands atop a cedar wood base. Entire piece stands 9.5″ high; figure alone, 5″ high excluding feather and base; feather adds another 3.5″ in height; base stands 2″ high by 3-3/8″ wide by 2-1/8″ deep (all dimensions approximate). Close-up and back view shown below.
Sterling silver; horse hair; deer antler; cedar
$2,200 + shipping, handling, and insurance
Fragility requires special handling; extra shipping charges apply
As I said then:
Once in the spirit world, of course, he will wear his finest traditional dress. The trappings of age and mortality will have fallen away; he will once again be that vital young warrior, singer, dancer, leader that he was in his prime. HIs long, luxuriant black hair will be restored to him, and now, unencumbered by human frailty, he will be able to dance for eternity in brilliant color that will never fade.
He needs his regalia.
He asked for it.
I can imagine his voice, a gentle susurration on the cold winter wind, calling for his headdress, that marker of identity and power, of recognition earned through a life well-lived.
And so, hair and headdress have been restored to him.
His hair is once more the rich jet color of his youth, uncut, a manifestation of his strength and a tangible sign of his power.
His “eagle feather” remains, of course, but it now dances with him in the accompany of a lesser, yet larger and more colorful, macaw feather: shades of blue and earthy orange, the colors of the Pueblo itself, of its very sky and soil.
And attached to the feathers of his headdress is a strand of very old beads in brilliant hues: blues and reds, oranges and yellows, more colors of earth and sky. The beads move with him as he dances, casting their blessings of rain and abundance upon his people.
It took a little time, with some detours along the way, but today his journey is complete. He is home now, in the Spirit World, properly attired and ready to dance for the people.
Words to live by, a practice for the ages.
I continually remind myself of this lesson.
It’s not merely that we must continue onward around the path of the hoop, nor that we must call upon reserves of strength to fight and joy to dance.
It’s that we must recognize the natural ebb and flow of things, be attuned to the evolution of spirit, be ever-ready to dance upon the arc of the light.
~ 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 owner.
