So many sacred spaces are heads. Now that the Earth has insistently re-entered human social lives, it might be best to get to know how to speak with her. Here are some of her heads.
Heart of the Monster, Kamiah, Idaho
The Serpent, Okanagan Mountain
Cipak, Similkameen
Snowy, East Cascades, Similkameen
The Chief, Nkmp
And here is how to speak with her.
Buffalo Eddy, Snake River Canyon
The heads match your own. The mark-making you see here is not communication but a record of an open door through a shared space, a space that by the attention paid to it is both Earth’s head and your own, where you dream her and she dreams you. Same here:
Thompson River Hoodoos, Secwepemc Illahie
Lower Nicola
Lake Lahore Wall, Grand Coulee, Washington
Mark-making is not necessary. By the catch of your attention, you are marked, at these places where your body and the Earth’s are one. Did you really think you were not that big?
Similkameen Silt Bluffs, Nighthawk
The task is how do you move responsibly with a body this big, that you can only communicate with through reverence? How do you move an arm, even? Simply, it is you who must move, and you who must remain still.
Thompson Canyon, Nlaka’pamux Illahie
The dream state stretches as you move. It must be maintained and renewed.
Ashcroft, Thompson Parkland
We are being taught that we are not separate. The Earth is calling us close. It is time to show up.
Categories: Arts, Earth, First Peoples, Land
A friend was showing slides of a trip to Egypt and Palestine. He showed one of some pre-pyramid pictographs and mentioned that these are more than six thousand years old. I wondered if he had ever thought that our indigenous neighbours here have lived here longer than that and also left pictographs.
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It’s very true. But we can’t talk about it in school, because nothing protects them except ignorance, at the moment.
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So many faces in Ashcroft!
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It’s a sacred space shaken to bits by two trains, day and night, and the mine up above, digging out the sacred copper.
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Sigh.
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Thanks Harold.
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Thanks Harold
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Blessings, Chris. I hope you are out there in the grass.
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