Grandmother Raven Grows Up
When I visited the Portland Art Museum, I was struck by the figure of the Raven transforming into the sun. I felt him inviting me to dance & so to honor this I offered my Mamiya C330 camera & a roll of Ilford Delta 3200 b&w film. I bowed before him to honor him as a spiritual ancestor per my Zen practice. I stood before him, focusing on my breath & allowed him to guide me. I saw myself as a child seeing him for the first time & so I squatted, letting his spirit move my body to allow the slow exposure to blur gently. When we were finished, I honored him with a deep bow.
To honor my Celtic blood ancestors, my Anishinabek blood ancestors, & my spiritual ancestors of the Pacific Northwest land that has adopted me, I have created a story that combines the Crone aspect of the Raven that I carry in my blood with this teaching from those whose blood is carried in this land we are all responsible in caring for. My story is made with both words & artifact. The artifact uses black & white film photography printed on rice paper & decoupaged onto a three-dimensional shadowbox that uses a mix of assemblage & hand-painted emblems to transmit the story visually. My words follow after this brief narrative. The dark winter of the soul is something we all can know, especially when the days are short & overcast. I hope my story can be good medicine during dark times. Whatever we are yearning for, we can make our own medicine by making space for the warm light we are each given to carry in our hearts.
Grandmother Raven lived all alone. She’d had a good quiet life, had never found a mate & never had any children. One night when she went to sleep she thought about how blessed she was to have lived such a long & peaceful life & how nice it would be to have a mate to share these few final years with. As she dreamt, she felt herself embraced by a shadow & a special kind of warmth & care she had never known before. A voice whispered, “wait for me, my love, I will be there soon.”
So, she waited. For days she sat at home in her small hole in the ground & she waited. But her lover did not come. Still she waited. For days she waited. She waited & she waited. But still her lover did not come.
Standing up at last she emerged from her hole. She felt the warmth of the sun & found herself embraced by a great shadow. “There you are, my love, you’ve come at last! Please, stay with me!” She opened her mouth & the strength of her yearning caused it to stretch so wide she swallowed her shadow whole.
She felt a lightness in her heart but it did not warm her. Every part of her body felt cold & how she shivered, except for this new spark of warmth in her heart. Her hunger for light & warmth consumed her & so she rooted herself in the ground & up up up she stretched, reaching towards the great golden sun in the sky.
Her head & her heart grew together & her wings multiplied as she reached up closer to touch that great golden sun. She grew taller & thinner. Her great big feathers hardened to keep her strong. She exhaled happiness. The small soft feathers at the ends of her wings burst into pine needles as she swayed & danced with the breeze…. & that’s why Ravens live in trees!
I offer this work as a gift in praise of all past, present, & future ancestors that we may care for each other, all creatures, & the land that carries us.
