(Lorraine Black - daughter of one of the most...)
Secondly, do not become emotionally attached to the artists. Run from attempts to bring you into their families, or propositions aimed at making you a "blood brother". I know a number of Anglo people who have been adopted into the world of the Navajo, and are quite pleased with their associations. These adoptees, however, do not come into contact with the multitude of characters we see on a daily basis. We experience firsthand what a commitment these relationships are, and see on an ongoing basis the amount of time, effort and emotional stamina it takes to be a "brother".
A few years ago Lorraine Black brought in a beautifully woven basket, which she carefully unwrapped and handed to me for inspection. As the transfer was made from her hand to mine, a good size sliver of Sumac stuck my finger. I set the weaving on the counter and focused on removing the painful intrusion as quickly as possible. Although Steve tried to catch my attention, I was intent on relieving my misery and neglected his protests. As I drew the sticker from my appendage, a drop of blood emerged from the wound and fell onto the basket. Steve's "uh oh," and the meaning behind it, flooded my consciousness. I looked up into Lorraine's smiling face, and knew what was coming. Before I could interject, Lorraine had me cornered with her statement, "I must have poked myself and spilled my own blood on that basket a dozen times. Because yours has joined mine, we are now brother and sister."
I did my darndest to talk myself out of the situation by pointing out my many faults. Much to my chagrin, Steve readily agreed with each and every statement and pointed out a few I had missed. He later stated that he was just trying to help me out of the predicament, but the smile behind his eyes made me wonder. Lorraine was having none of it; she knew she had me just where she wanted me, and was not letting me out of the noose. I fussed and fumed, cleaned the basket thoroughly and claimed ignorance to her customs and the responsibilities they demanded. Lorraine just shook her head, frowned at me and said, "We are family, get used to it!"
Both Steve and I have known Lorraine for at least 25 years, and we like her a great deal. We just don't want to be directly related to her! Lorraine's own family calls her Ma'ai (Coyote), which translates into chaos! The woman is a wonderful, outrageous, high maintenance, out of control individual. I have enough women in my life with those very same traits; why would I want another? My stress increased as I noticed Steve nonchalantly moving out of harm's way, in an effort to disassociate himself from the occurrence. So much for brotherly intervention.
I began negotiations, on the basket and the relationship. Steve had disappeared completely, so I felt no remorse in sacrificing him. I worked out a deal that provided her with a higher price than she would have normally received for her weaving. The other side of the compromise provided Lorraine with two blood brothers for the price of one. Same parents, same blood! Steve and I would share responsibility for our new sister on the basis of "catch us if you can". When Steve finally returned and discovered the terms of the contract he complained bitterly, but knew that Lorraine would hold him to our agreement. As far as I was concerned it served him right for leaving the scene of an accident.
Copyright©2002 Twin Rocks Trading Post
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