Smoking With Beth Thomas
Teec Nos Pos (translated as "Circle of Cottonwoods") is a style of Navajo tapestry and rug weaving, named after the community where it originated (Teec Nos Pos, Arizona, near the "Four Corners"). The Teec Nos Pos aesthetic includes intricate geometric patterns, bold colors, orient-inspired designs, and wide, dark borders. It is in these bold borders that I found the cornerstone for this story. The "Weaverís Pathway" is a design element that appears in Teec Nos Pos weavings, as well as other styles of rugs/tapestries with thick borders. You might notice a single thread of color passing through the border from the inner design to the outer edge of the rug. (To the untrained eye, it might look like a flaw in the weaving. This contrasting color seems to throw off the perfect symmetry of the rest of the design.) Some say this is a path by which energy and passion can flow into the rug. But most say that this pathway is a corridor for the weaverís soul. When the weaver focuses so much energy, creativity, passion, and time into a single piece, there is a danger of the weaverís soul becoming trapped in that piece, and of the weaver just weaving their life away and missing everything else. The "weaverís pathway" is an outlet for the soul, a means of escape.
"Rosie worries about her mother, who suffers from a lack of daydreaming, a lack of staring off into nothing for a while." Tell us what you know about the Navajo culture and their beliefs, and why Mama Mabel's attitude is so confounding to Rosie.
I only know enough about Navajo culture and beliefs to make myself sound ignorant. But I do know how competitive these arts can be in tourist hubs like Santa Fe, which is where Canyon Road is located. I see Rosie as someone who is using her talents in order toÖ transcend, I guess. She wants to put in the work, make her beautiful art, and then reap the benefits. To her, that is rest, indulgence, vacation. Her mother, who probably does not have this artistic gift, is more pragmatic. She wants to pay the bills, of course, and beyond that, wants the renown that comes with owning a gallery or shop on prestigious Canyon Road. These two women are two sides of the same coin.
"She can not fault him; he doesn't understand." What should he, and people in general, understand about the Navajo and their craft work?
Without trying to make a grand statement, I simply wanted to suggest that this man (the tourist) doesnít know much about where he is. I'm sure this is a common problem. He knows he has money to spend—maybe heís acting on a tip that a "native" tapestry would be a good investment or a good show piece—but he does not know that the Navajo and Anasazi are different people. So the mixing of "genres" that Rosie expects is crass, but not surprising.
This is your last story to be published as the Kathy Fish Fellowship holder. Any thoughts about your time as writer in residence?
My main thought is that it is over too soon. I think what my writing career really needs is to have the SmokeLong staff around to critique my stuff all the time. Alas, I must go off on my own now. Leave the nest. Unfurl my wings. Fly, etc.
But I have learned a lot from everyone at SLQ this year. Most importantly, these things (and most most importantly, #6):
1) Donít fear the Draft. The draft is our friend, not our enemy.
2) Specificity is very important—except when it isnít.
3) Build tension; develop urgency.
4) Reorder everything to find holes or new directions.
5) Cut cut cut. Economize.
6) Revising is not a sign of weakness!
Thanks to all SmokeLong staff and Guest Editors for 2007. I appreciate all of your feedback, direction and support. And thank you, Kathy Fish, for being such an inspiration. Viva la Fish Fellowship!
SLQ completed issue 18 at the close of summer and launched this issue, 19, on the threshold of winter. During the three months in between, the crops were harvested, the leaves fell, the rain returned, temperatures dropped, darkness lengthened. Death in increments. How does the turning of the seasons affect your "muse," your inspiration?
I think this year it is the longing for seasons that is affecting me. Since moving to California in 2004, I have not seen a real autumn or winter. Darkness comes early, mornings are cooler, but there is no snow, no frost, no fires in fireplaces. If there is a cold rain one day, the next day the Santa Ana winds kick up and itís 80 degrees in December. This has thrown me all out of whack. I need the seasons to change and then stay changed for a while. I grew up with that cycle of seasons; the predictable shifts in weather and daylight and smells and attire. I donít know if any of it has affected my muse—inspiration seems as sporadic as ever—but I know that I miss it. I need a hayride, a snowman, a thunderstorm.
Read Teec Nos Pos (Circle of Cottonwoods).
|Issue Nineteen (December 15, 2007): The Off-Season by Jami Attenberg «» A Company Function by Grant Bailie «» Food Spectrum of the Rainbow Family by Melissa Bell «» Holiday Inn by Kim Chinquee «» Killer Pair by Trinie Dalton «» What Happened to My Purple Flip-Flops by Arwen Dewey «» Truth (ii) by Ben Ehrenreich «» How 9) Strange by Laird Hunt «» The Mess You Made in Us by C. Robin Madigan «» Red Brick by Darlin' Neal «» A Boy Not Born Yet by Tori Malcangio «» Taco Foot by Jack Pendarvis «» Boyandaquarter by Ben Stein «» Teec Nos Pos (Circle of Cottonwoods) by Beth Thomas «» Music from 1975 by Benjamin Weissman «» Interviews: Jami Attenberg «» Grant Bailie «» Melissa Bell «» Kim Chinquee «» Trinie Dalton «» Arwen Dewey «» Ben Ehrenreich «» Laird Hunt «» C. Robin Madigan «» Tori Malacangio «» Darlin' Neal «» Jack Pendarvis «» Jim Ruland «» Ben Stein «» Beth Thomas «» Benjamin Weissman «» Cover Art "Desire" by Marty D. Ison «» Letter From the Editor|