What I did this weekend.
I have no tales of New Year's debauchery to relate. I spent the day with my children, at the inter-tribal powwow here in Tucson.
It was a good time. Frybread was enjoyed by all. And the dancing was cool. A lot of dancers in magnificent outfits, the girls had their heads on swivels the whole time. There were alot of Sioux from various tribes there, lots of bright feathers and beads. Some very good drumming circles.
The highlight for me came during one of the open dances, where members of various tribes walked out to dance together while the drumming circles traded off. There was one, a group of Lakota men that had a very powerful sound. They all started singing, deep, rumbling older men's voices full of power and gravity.
While they sang, I think all of our attention was drawn to a solitary dancer. She was about seventeen, beautiful and Lakota. She carried a fan made of eagle feathers and had a magnificent, dignified presence to her dance. While the men sang, she suddenly started singing too, the same song, in a higher register with a beautiful, cutting voice that had all the pride and sadness of her people's journey in it. It was wonderful. And haunting. I don't think I'll ever forget it.
There were other cool things. I hung out with a Navajo family from Gallup for a while. They painted the girls faces with butterflies and the children played together while we hung out and talked. I talked to a White Mountain Apache man who remarked that I had my hands full with the girls. I asked about his kids and he told me the saddest story. His eighteen year old son was killed in a drunk driving accident fifteen years previous to that exact day. Sad. But the day also marked his sobriety day. Hasn't had a drop since.
Other news. I moved, again, to a house two doors down. Had a little landlord tenant dispute with the earlier people. HAd to jet early.
I guess that's it for now. A good holiday all things considered.
It was a good time. Frybread was enjoyed by all. And the dancing was cool. A lot of dancers in magnificent outfits, the girls had their heads on swivels the whole time. There were alot of Sioux from various tribes there, lots of bright feathers and beads. Some very good drumming circles.
The highlight for me came during one of the open dances, where members of various tribes walked out to dance together while the drumming circles traded off. There was one, a group of Lakota men that had a very powerful sound. They all started singing, deep, rumbling older men's voices full of power and gravity.
While they sang, I think all of our attention was drawn to a solitary dancer. She was about seventeen, beautiful and Lakota. She carried a fan made of eagle feathers and had a magnificent, dignified presence to her dance. While the men sang, she suddenly started singing too, the same song, in a higher register with a beautiful, cutting voice that had all the pride and sadness of her people's journey in it. It was wonderful. And haunting. I don't think I'll ever forget it.
There were other cool things. I hung out with a Navajo family from Gallup for a while. They painted the girls faces with butterflies and the children played together while we hung out and talked. I talked to a White Mountain Apache man who remarked that I had my hands full with the girls. I asked about his kids and he told me the saddest story. His eighteen year old son was killed in a drunk driving accident fifteen years previous to that exact day. Sad. But the day also marked his sobriety day. Hasn't had a drop since.
Other news. I moved, again, to a house two doors down. Had a little landlord tenant dispute with the earlier people. HAd to jet early.
I guess that's it for now. A good holiday all things considered.