It's Official

Photo copyright Wings, 2014; all rights reserved.

Spring arrived three days ago.

It doesn't matter what the calendar says. I know it's spring when I first hear this being's call. That happened at 9:29 AM MDT on March 12th.

Some years he and his mate spend the winter with us. Not this year.

He's back this morning. I haven't seen him yet, but I can hear him. 

And I know, despite the likelihood of occasional snow in the weeks to come, that it is spring.




Copyright Ajijaakwe, 2014; all rights reserved.

Happy Pi Day!

Photo copyright Ajijaakwe, 2014; all rights reserved.

Around here, even the sky gets in on the act. 

[No, that photo is not from today; we have rain on the way, thank all that's holy.]

Big to-do list for today, and some of it needs to beat the weather, so I may not be around much. With any luck, I'll get to a couple of substantive posts tonight and/or tomorrow.

No pie-ing while you're pi-ing. But if you must, make mine pecan.

The Value of Hope

Photo copyright Ajijaakwe, 2014; all rights reserved.

Yes, I know there's a joke in here about not putting all your eggs in one basket.

But that image just looks to me like the very embodiment of spring, new life, prosperity, hope.

There's a lot of hope around here right now, and that's thanks to a whole bunch of people, some of whom I don't even know. Because the last couple of weeks, we've had a rush of folks who need help and causes that need support, and somehow, people keep coming through.

Horace is in his new apartment. I don't think he has wifi yet, but he's no longer sleeping on someone else's floor.

BFSkinner is in his new house, so he doesn't risk his life just trying to get up the stairs to his apartment. He now has enough to take care of the movers, too.

And River and Charles can breathe again, knowing that their home is not going to be put on the auction block next month.

Some powerful young women in Congo are going to get to spread their own message of hope through music.

And we were given our own rays of hope this week, completely unexpectedly and far more than we deserve.

Now, all that remains, for the moment, is to get Tonya fully funded and into a safe space. We knew that would be a longer-term project, but at $1,490 so far, it's a good start.

So I'm feeling pretty humbled right now, and very grateful, and extraordinarily blessed — not least of all because I'm privileged to have such wonderfully generous, big-hearted people in my life.

Chi miigwech.

Copyright Ajijaakwe, 2014; all rights reserved.

This Is My Sister. She Needs Our Help.

Photo copyright River and Charles Curtis-Stanley, 2014; all rights reserved.

This is Nishime, "my little sister." Most folks know her as Kitsap River.

Yes, I know we don't look much alike — that whole coloring thing — but just because we're not blood doesn't mean we're not family. River and Charles honored us by adopting us as family within the way of their own tradition, as brother and sister, years ago.

And now my family needs help, so that they don't lose their home.

The seeds of this were planted three years ago, in 2011, at the very same time that the seeds of something wonderful and life-giving were planted. In fact, they're the same seeds. But they were planted in the soil of a land that doesn't have a proper safety net, particularly not for people with catastrophic health conditions, and so, as usual, the fruit winds up growing in two directions: one branch is nutritious; the other, poisonous.

The nutritious, life-giving fruit was the new kidney she received early that year. If you recall, I spent just over a month up in Washington with them, to help with driving and lifting and all the things she was barred from doing for those weeks. [I didn't actually do all that much, but it was a lovely break for me, and at least I could keep her company in all those waiting rooms.]

The poisonous fruit was toxic levels of debt. Despite receiving disability and having health insurance through Charles's employer, any undertaking of the magnitude of an organ transplant means huge costs for the patient and her family. Costs that aren't covered by any program, agency, or safety net. And add to that their particular situation: four days a week of additional fares on the ferry, plus gas and parking, because the facility is the University Medical Center across the sound, is just one small example of the kinds of costs that are unavoidable.

So they delayed that year's property taxes on the house, thinking that things would right themselves the following year. But it's been one thing after another (isn't it always?), and the constant daily follow-up needed to maintain her transplant (and therefore stay alive) have turned out to be much more daunting that anyone could have anticipated. [I suspect this is one of those situations where it's best that you don't know just how daunting it will be, or you'd never go through with it, and we need her here with us.]

At any rate, if I understand this correctly, there's a wrinkle in Washington State law that requires a property owner to pay a year's worth of back taxes in one lump sum — no payment schedules or other arrangements. That means that they must come up with the whole amount, $3,700, or lose their home on the auction block come April. They've managed to put aside the lion's share of it: $2,900, give or take a couple of hundred, depending on other needs over the remainder of this month.  But they're still short $800, at a a minimum. Say $1,000, to be safe.

Actually, what River won't tell you, but I will, is that they've been juggling frantically for so long to make this work that it works out to more than $1,000, because the power bill is past due and there are other expenses mounting. But $1,000 saves their home. 

And saves her life. Actually, Charles's life, as well. Because he has chronic health issues, too. And if they lose their home, I know that River, with her transplant issues, will not survive homelessness.

And I can't let that happen.

I know we're in for something.  I don't know how much yet, because I have to go through our own finances today after the farrier leaves and see what we can juggle. But I'm asking you to consider kicking in a few bucks to help save their home. Here's her GoFundMe page. If 20 of us can give $50 — if 40 of us can give $25 — it's done. They can write the check in a few days, and I can breathe easier knowing that my family still has a roof over their heads.

And if you can't donate, please simply share this with everyone in your networks, both on- and offline.

Chi miigwech.

Native Arts: Sculpture Sale — 25% Off! Spirits and Singers

Buffalo/Eagle Spirit by Emerson Gomez.  Photos copyright Ajijaakwe, 2013, 2014; all rights reserved.

This piece is a perfect example of the use of form and flow in crafting art infused with spirit of a solid piece of stone.

By the late Emerson Gomez (Taos Pueblo), this combined Eagle Spirit and Buffalo Spirit is rendered in Pilar slate, a beautiful charcoal-colored stone found in this area. 

When polished, it feels almost like soapstone, but it has subtle and mysterious matrices, usually in a deep blood-red. 

Here, the body flows upward and outward; the broadest point comes into focus as Buffalo, with delicate alabaster horns nearly the shade of pale amber. The other side flows into Eagle's fierce visage. From memory, I believe it stands about 8" tall, and rests on golden-brown alabaster base. SC048; retail, $255; sale price, $191.25 + s/h/i.

"Laying Down Buffalo" by Paul Dancebow.Photo copyright Ajijaakwe, 2013, 2014;
all rights reserved.

In keeping with the Buffalo theme, we have "Laying Down Buffalo," by Paul Dancebow (Taos Pueblo). [No grammar police, please; the artist gets to name his work whatever he wants.] This big, happy-looking guy is, if memory serves, about 8"-9" in length, and he is extremely heavy. He's made of steatite, or soapstone, imported from Canada, and the feel is complex: It manages to seem both warm and cool to the touch at the same time. On the reverse, his tail stands out in relief, curled around the back of his body. SC006; retail, $450; sale price, $337.50 + s/h/i. Weight requires special handling.

Traditional Pueblo Singer by Paul Dancebow.
Photo copyright Ajijaakwe, 2013, 2014;
all rights reserved.

And last, but by no means least, we have another piece by Paul Dancebow: a traditional singer. Carved of cedar, his upturned face is finely detailed, as is his long hair, tied back in  traditional style. He's wrapped in a blanket, and his body curves gently, following the natural line of the wood. He stands atop an alabaster base, golden in color with silver-white matrices throughout. 

Traditional Pueblo Singer by Paul Dancebow.
Photo copyright Ajijaakwe, 2013, 2014;
all rights reserved.

SC015; retail, $225; sale price, $168.75 + s/h/i.

Copyright Ajijaakwe, 2014; all rights reserved.

Native Arts: Sculpture Sale — 25% Off! Elder Spirits

"BearHawk" by Ned Archuleta.
Photo copyright Ajijaakwe, 2013, 2014; all rights reserved.

These three are also by Ned Archuleta (Taos Pueblo), and they're very much in his trademark style.

The first, above, is called "BearHawk.' It's a style that he does with some regularity, melding together the spirits of a traditional elder and an animal into one mystical piece. Here, it's the elder and a bear, traditional symbol of medicine and power, rendered in smooth, flowing, silken lines of clay-colored alabaster shot with bits of warm, nearly golden, streaks in the stone. About six inches in overall length, it sits on a wooden base. SC007; retail, $225; sale price, $168.75 + s/h/i. 

Traditional Pueblo Elder by Ned Archuleta.
Photo copyright Ajijaakwe, 2013, 2014; all rights reserved.

This untitled piece, in pink alabaster, is of a Pueblo elder in traditional dress, including blanket and eagle feather. From memory, I believe it stands about a foot high, including the red cedar base. SC027; retail, $375; sale price, $281.25 + s/h/i.  Requires special handling.

Traditional Pueblo Elder by Ned Archuleta.
Photo copyright Ajijaakwe, 2013. 2014; all rights reserved.

Last, another rendering of a Pueblo elder in traditional dress, also in pink alabaster on a wooden base. This one really shows Ned's ability to coax spirit from stone by following its immanent form, and features great attention to detail: the lines of the blanket, the strands of beads, the markings on the eagle feather in the hair. SC008; retail, $375; sale price, $281.25 + s/h/i.  Requires special handling.

Copyright Ajijaakwe, 2014; all rights reserved.

Native Arts: Sculpture Sale — 25% Off! Animal Spirits

"Taos Pueblo Mountain Trout" by Ned Archuleta.
Photo copyright Ajijaakwe, 2013, 2014; all rights reserved.

All of these pieces are by Ned Archuleta (Taos Pueblo). Ned is known for working mostly in alabaster, and he's particularly fond of pink alabaster, mined in Colorado. Although these four pieces look genuinely "pink," that's not always the case with this stone; he often chooses blocks that are nearly taupe in color, sometimes with a blood-red matrix. He's also known for working with the stone, rather than against it, allowing the stone's natural lines and spirit to dictate how a piece takes shape.

Up first: "Taos Pueblo Mountain Trout." Pink alabaster on pink alabaster base. If you look closely, you can see the flowing lines of the matrix in the cool, silky stone,giving the appearance of scales and fins. SC031; retail, $375; sale price, $281.25 + s/h/i. Note: Requires special handling.

Buffalo by Ned Archuleta.
Photo copyright Ajijaakwe, 2013, 2014; all rights reserved.

Next, an untitled rendering of a buffalo, also in pink alabaster. The back of the body and the face are polished smooth; the head, shoulders, and forelegs are roughened to reflect Buffalo's curly mane. The horns are carved of polished deep-red pipestone. SC028; retail, $375; sale price, $281.25 + s/h/i. Note: Requires special handling.

Medicine Bear by Ned Archuleta.
Photo copyright Ajijaakwe, 2013, 2014; all rights reserved.

This piece (and the next) are much smaller, almost — but not quite — small enough to be considered fetishes (a little under 4" long). This little guy is a furry medicine bear: the hair of his coat is carved right into his body. This piece really shows the variability of pink alabaster: All of one small block of stone, his face is nearly white, but from the ears back his body shows varying shades of rose, almost purple, in the stone's matrix. Inlaid bits of Sleeping Beauty turquoise serve as his eyes, and his medicine bundle, tied on with the traditional sinew, is of turquoise and coral beads. SC040; retail, $125; sale price, $93.75 + s/h/i.

"Beaver" by Ned Archuleta.
Photo copyright Ajijaakwe, 2013, 2014; all rights reserved.

Lastly, for this series, "Beaver." Again, this little guy is "furry," with his coat etched into the pink alabaster stone; in this case, it contains beautiful, variable matrices. His broad, flat tail has the cross-hatching carved right into it; two tiny pieces of Sleeping Beauty turquoise form his eyes. SC039; retail, $125; sale price, $93.75 + s/h/i.

Copyright Ajijaakwe, 2014; all rights reserved.