MINERALARTS: Iron and Thorn

“LADY OF THE LAKE”

Fossil mammoth ivory with blue vivianite stripe, Madagascar “Ocean Wave” picture jasper, Indonesian basalt lava beads, tumbled aquamarine chips, copper tube beads and wire, hot-forged copper curly cone, sterling silver.  Custom necklace for a friend.  I cut the mammoth ivory to match the stripe on the jasper cabochon.  Fastens at the front with the copper hooks.

Sometimes the omens appear in clusters.  Today a coyote ran across the road in front of me and (oddly) didn’t look back.  This week I found three snakeskins, all inaccessible in some way:  One hidden under stones (revealed when I was planting agaves), one entwined deep among the daggerlike leaves of a yucca in my yard, and one old and worn but not yet shed, on a big rattlesnake that I met in a sandy wash yesterday.  Clearly, it’s time for me to leave some things behind.  Here are some iron items that might help:

The Vulture Dancer earrings have double curly cone bells and vulture leg bones.  Two high-carbon steel threaductter knives rest on a piece of snakeskin.  The left one is a bird claw, and has a blade and a seamripper.  The right one (quite a bit thicker and heavier) is a cat claw, 2.5″ long.  Since they are forged, ground, drilled, and polished, they are a lot more work than they look - and perhaps more than they’re worth, considering their rough appearance.   Perhaps Atropos wears one of these as an amulet, or keeps it hidden in her workbasket. 

First in an occasional series of natural history book reviews.

THE GREAT CACTI:  ETHNOBOTANY AND BIOGEOGRAPHY, by David Yetman, 2007.  University of Arizona Press, 297 pages, hardbound.

This beautiful book contains photos and descriptions of more than 100 species of giant columnar cacti in North, Central, and South America.  As the title says, it includes detailed distribution maps and plenty of details on current and historical indigenous use of each species.  But it is most valuable for its photos and natural history discussions, for which it is the only widely available comprehensive resource on these cacti.  The United States is home to only three giant cacti:  the senita and organ pipe (both almost entirely restricted to Organ Pipe Cactus National Park) and the saguaro (southern Arizona and extreme SE California).  Americans who have cactus gardens or who vacation in Mexico may be familiar with a handful of others.  But this book records all the columnar cacti (many of which are rare, localized, and poorly known) and is a celebration of their beauty and diversity.

Each genus has a brief botanical discussion, followed by a description of each species, including growth form, preferred habitat, and any uses that local and/or indigenous people have found for it (many species produce edible fruit and usable lumber).  There are photos of most species growing in their natural habitat, fruit (especially if it is gathered for food or sold in markets) and many unusually large individuals, protected or cultivated stands of cacti, and buildings or furniture made from cactus wood.  The writing style is accessible and informal, which means that anyone - regardless of scientific or natural history background - can enjoy and learn from this book.  As a naturalist, I would have preferred more specific botanical details and technical drawings for each species, and a more concise and uniform presentation of ethnobotanical information (these paragraphs are informative, but tend to be rambling and opinionated).  Oddly and unfortunately, the book’s treatment of the saguaro is perfunctory and incomplete.  Far more information is available on this cactus than on any of the others, and I think the author missed a great opportunity to use this familiar icon as a significant educational ”ambassador” for the other giant cacti.  Despite its shortcomings (which may reflect the publisher’s preferences rather than those of the author), THE GREAT CACTI is lovely and inspiring, and a valuable gem among desert natural history books.

We spent last weekend at Joshua Tree National Park, hiking among the giant yuccas and granite tors and  photographing blooming cacti and Mojave wildflowers that were new to me.  The park is not grazed, so desert plants are astonishingly abundant, diverse, and healthy:  wildflowers, flowering shrubs, cacti, desert trees, and of course the famous giant yuccas.  I put a few photos from our trip on this page:

http://www.mineralarts.com/cactus/JoshuaTreeNP.html

I especially enjoyed the hike to the 49 Palms Oasis.  The trail wanders over rocky desert hills covered in brittlebush and barrel cacti, offering occasional tantalizing glimpses of a cluster of native Fan Palms (Washingtonia filifera) glittering green in the morning light.  Once among them, I was amazed at their size.  This tree is cultivated throughout the Southwest, but the wild ones have much more presence - they are taller and their trunks are more supple.  The huge leaves create a cool wind that constantly stirs them with surf noises, yet their shade holds the same ancient peace that I found among the tiny palmettos on the North Carolina coast.  On the way home, southern California’s blasted emptiness (largely man-made) hit me full force, and the memory of the tiny, fragile palm oasis became all the more precious.

The golden glow of this Blazing Star (Menzelia involucrata) captures the Mojave desert light very well:

It’s good to be working on the Moon Oracle again.  Finished the first of the eight Stones drawings.  These will depict various round white quartz and chalcedony pebbles in the geological environment where they are found (which is sometimes, though not necessarily, the environment where they form.)  This one is for the First Quarter Moon and was drawn from one of my photos.  There are several similar archaeological sites near my house, with grinding holes/bedrock mortars in granite outcrops along major washes.  When the Hohokam lived here, these places would have had mesquite bosques where people came to collect and grind the sweet pods for food.  The holes almost always have nearby petroglyphs depicting spirals or concentric rings, perhaps associated with water or the with the work of grinding.   

I found the two pitted and “eyed” chalcedony pebbles on the bajada near my house.  The pits on the pebbles reflect the grinding holes, and the concentric chalcedony layers that are revealed in the broken pebble mirror the ancient weathered petroglyphs.

The two great horned owl nests that I pass on my morning walk are active now, with three young birds in each.  I feel honored to have two nests so close to my house, and watching them has become a wonderful spring tradition.  The young birds watch us with suspicion:

Even this Needlespine Cactus (Echinomastus erectocentrus var. erectocentrus) is a reminder that this time of year belongs to the owls:

April marks the first anniversary of our exploration of the Empire Mountains.  This is a small mountain range (geologically, the northeastern extension of the Santa Ritas) and the highway passes very close to it, but access to the interior is only by hiking and (to a limited extent) by 4WD vehicle.  We have found unique plant communities, several rare plants, and a great diversity of common desert, grassland, and mountain flora.  I have been developing a plant list for the area (as far as I know, this has never been done).  

http://www.mineralarts.com/cactus/EmpireMtsFlora.html

Although not intended to illustrate every species, the webpage includes photos of some of the showier flowers, and will eventually include photos and descriptions of typical Empire Mt. plant communities. 

Here’s a new set of six forged iron cone bells that are designed to be tied onto a drum, a bag, or anything that needs some earthy metallic rattling energy.  The three small cones have a very high, tinkly sound, and the larger ones have a more assertive clank. They are photographed on a copper/iron ore boulder in my yard.

I’ve been refining my forging skill with the Moon Metal.  Silver holds more tension than my “comfort metals”, iron and copper.  So working with it requires a mix of emotional intensity, fearlessness, and desire for change.  In other words, I do it when old attitudes or routines don’t work anymore.  I’m not really “at home” with silver, but I’ve learned to greet it as an old friend and challenger on the road.

The wand/hairpin is 5.5″ long, hot-forged from a sterling silver rod with the same techniques that I use for iron wands.  The pod knife is a work in progress, since it still needs a chain and a bag.  The blade is high-carbon steel.  The pod is heavy silver sheet with a “spine” of forged silver and a copper wire rivet.  The earrings are turquoise (natural nugget from Mexico, bead from Tibet) with Mexican pink ceramic beads. 

Rainbow Lion was my big project for March.  The magic in this one is a bit more “white light” than my usual work, and it will be reassuring for me to get back to my stones and knives.  But I found this colorful yarn when I was working on the Snow Lion, and it was an irresistible match for the white silk/hemp fabric.  This is a particularly cuddly lion (though very sturdy, like the others) with a very thick, soft mane.  The yarn is a cotton/silk/rayon blend.  The blanket adds a lot of color, but (unlike the other two lions) he looks just as good without it.  Description and more photos are here:

http://www.mineralarts.com/artwork/greenliontoy.html

I hope this lion provides comfort after a storm for somebody.  This was a difficult month for me, but I’ll wait until after the New Moon to look for my own sign of celestial renewal.

Today I have a Temperance story for the week of the Full Moon and the Vernal Equinox.  In the Ironwing Tarot, the Temperance card is titled “Quench” and shows a newly-forged iron bowl being cooled in water, creating steam that melts the overhanging melting icicles.  It is an image of completion, consecration, and all the contrasting elements that create a mysterious organic union of iron and oil.

The day after last month’s lunar eclipse, I got an e-mail from a customer who had bought one of my triple cone bell pendants and a custom-order bell a few years ago.  The bell is pictured on my website - it has a very large clapper that is a substantial bell in itself, and I have not made another one like it.  My customer used and enjoyed the bells for several years.  Then her house burned to the ground.  She was able to find the bells but was afraid they were permanently damaged, and was writing to ask if I could do anything with them.  Of course I told her to send them back - I was very honored that she had salvaged them and still liked them enough to want them fixed!  I had expected the iron to be weakened, deformed, or even partly burned, but when the package arrived, I saw that the big bell was merely coated with rust and ashes.  It was easily cleaned up with a wire brush.  The small bells were clogged with ashes and bits of melted plastic that quickly vanished when I put them in the forge.  After polishing, everything was returned to the forge, quenched in oil, and good as new!  I added a new copper spiral to the pendant, and added a chain and miniature bell to replace the heavy coiled hook (which I’d never liked much) on the bell.  Here are the burned, rusty bells before rehabilitation:

Here are the refinished bells, ready to go home (they’ll have a nice bag, too):

I thought of the Temperance card on Sunday while I quenched and blackened the bells in oil as sleet rattled on the roof - a late winter storm brought snow to the mountains and a bit of rain to encourage the desert wildflowers. 

This is the desert anemone, Anemone tuberosa.  It is a close relative of the wood anemone (A. nemorosa) of the Eastern forest, but the desert plant is more succulent and usually has some pink shading on the flowers.  Today I gathered anemone leaves for a tincture.  The active compound is anemonin, which slows the heart rate and relaxes smooth muscle.  It is used in tiny amounts, since too much can easily be toxic.  It is surprisingly effective for calming anxiety or even for treating panic attacks. 

Seeing the plant, this use is not surprising, since the flowers seem to glow, pouring out the loving, living radiance of the early spring earth itself.  They appear in the most unlikely places - the dry, gravelly bajada slopes where their companions are the most drought-tolerant cacti, such as this Needlespine (Echinomastus erectocentrus var. erectocentrus). 

The cactus in the photo is a giant of its kind, since most plants of this species have only one stem.  If you look closely, you can see anemone leaves at the base of the cactus.  Each anemone plant has several leaves (usually three) and a single flowerstalk with a tiny leaf on it.  The tiny tuber is several inches underground, where it can endure extreme heat, occasional hard freezes, and months without rain.  In very wet years, plants grow several leaves and may be over a foot tall, but even in such ideal conditions, they vanish by mid-April.  In dry years, such as the past two springs, the plants do not appear at all.  This year, the anemone plants are two to six inches tall, and the leaves are quite small.  For the tincture, I collected a single leaf from half a dozen plants, leaving the flowers, roots, and remaining leaves undisturbed.