Navajo Ceremonial Baskets Sacred Symbols, Sacred Space
book by Georgiana Kennedy Simpson
On this particular morning, R.G.’s slow, constant peddling was propelling him steadily up the road, and reminding me of a conversation Jana and I recently had with some new friends. We had gotten to know the couple at a book signing Jana was doing in Cortez, Colorado, for her new book, Navajo Ceremonial Baskets; Sacred Symbols, Sacred Space.
For several years, Barry and I had talked about finding someone to write a book about contemporary Navajo baskets, but had been unsuccessful in putting the project together. Thinking she would tackle just one segment of the overall undertaking, four years ago Jana decided to write about ceremonial baskets. After countless all-nighters and numerous internal struggles, the text is finally in print and the book signings have begun in earnest.
Jana says writing the book was like a four year pregnancy. As the long suffering spouse, I can attest that she is correct in every sense of the analogy. When Kira, our daughter, was born, I remember being more exhausted than Jana after the arrival. When Jana’s book was finally complete, I was equally spent; even though I was once again a mere onlooker, who contributed virtually nothing to the overall success of the project.
After the book signing, Jana and I were invited to inspect the construction of a new house our friends are building on the outskirts of town. As we drove to the site, Jana mentioned that one of the challenges associated with writing the book was retelling the traditional stories, since they sometimes varied significantly from individual to individual. Because the Navajo legends have traditionally been passed from generation to generation orally, the stories can meander, migrate, and be somewhat fluid in nature. Each storyteller interprets the tale according to his or her own experience, so getting a handle on any particular part of the Navajo culture can be extremely challenging. R.G.’s consistent cadence stood in stark contrast to the irregularity of the traditional stories we had been discussing the previous night.
As we rode out to the new home, Jana reminded me that, since I tend to be somewhat linear, this variation in the Navajo legends frustrated me greatly in the early stages of my trading post career. During that phase of my life, I needed more stability, less uncertainty. As I have gotten older, however, I have become more comfortable with the idea that history is often based upon one’s personal perceptions, not actual facts. At this stage in my development, the thing I enjoy most about the trading post is seeing the artists grow, both artistically and personally. It is fascinating to watch them evolve, to meander and migrate like the stories. Sometimes the artists find their natural channel, and sometimes they don’t.
We have for several years maintained a photo album of the basket weavers, so I can look back at Mary Black and her daughters ten or twelve years ago. As I recently thumbed through the album, I was reminded of a basket Lorraine Black brought in several years ago. The basket design was completely chaotic; so much so that it made my head hurt. When I asked Lorraine about it, she said, “I have been having a difficult time lately.” The basket, although beautiful, certainly reflected the chaos in her life. I often think of that basket when my life has become too hectic and I can’t find my proper channel.
The album also has photographs of Kayla Black when she was only four or five, and just starting her basket weaving career. At that time, Kayla was only capable of helping Mary prepare the sumac. Now, at age thirteen, under Mary’s gentle hand, Kayla has developed into an accomplished weaver. Under Lorraine's tutelage, Kayla has also become a skilled negotiator.
A few weeks ago, Kayla and Lorraine brought in two weavings. After we had agreed upon a price for Lorraine’s basket, Barry and I turned our attention to Kayla. Generally, when we are trying to determine a price for a new basket, we pull out the photograph album and compare the new creation to recent purchases. On this occasion, however, we simply offered Kayla a price without looking at our photographic history.
Although Kayla objected to our proposal, Mary recommended that she accept the offer. Kayla persisted, and demanded that we get out the album. We then commenced measuring, counting coils, comparing the photographic record and calculating the price based upon historical events. As it turned out, Kayla was correct and received most of what she initially requested. Barry and I were impressed with her determination, and dismayed with the additional cost. It was, however, worth the price increase to see Kayla take control of her destiny.
The history and the people are always evolving at the trading post. As we write our weekly stories, Barry and I have noticed exactly how uncertain the process of recording historical events can be, and how our perceptions color certain events. In spite of my adjustment to a more meandering life, I sometimes long for the predictability of R.G.’s cycling cadence.
Copyright©2004 Twin Rocks Trading Post
No comments:
Post a Comment