Skywoman Falling

Måleriet vart til som ei gåve for mi Mamma, Skogsalven. Det er måla i kjærleik frå Mor til Dotter; frå Dotter til Mor.

Måleriet er inspirert av den eldgamle skåpingshistoria om «Skywoman», som er heldt levande i urfolk si historie over generasjonar. Forteljinga om Skywoman er ei skåpingshistorie som er delt av ei rekke ulike stammar, deriblant Potawatomi-stammen. Historien om Skywoman er ei skåpingshistorie, litt slik som me i den vestlege verda har fått høyre skåpingshistoria om Adam og Eva.

Eg kan ikkje anna enn å kjenne at forteljinga om Skywoman appellerer meir til meg

Under finn du eit utdrag frå den vakraste boka, Braiding Sweetgrass, av forfattar og forskar Robin Wall Kimmerer, omtala som «A hymn of love to the world»

 

Førehandsvisinga av trykket er i lågare oppløysing, og er verna med eit vassmerke. Ved kjøp får du eit trykk i profesjonell kvalitet, med personleg signatur, og sjølvsagt utan vassmerke (tekst i skrått over måleriet). Trykket eksisterer i totalt 30 eksemplar av sin storleik; kvart trykk er nummerert.

Trykket «Skywoman Falling» er spesialbestilt i Hahnemühle Fineart Papir, med Hahnemühle sitt «Certificate of Authenticity». Trykket er verna med ein UV-spraylakk (vernar trykket mot direkte sollys og fingermerke).

Pris er inkludert kunstavgift 5%, samt frakt. Kjøpsvilkår gjeld ved alle typar kjøp. Kjøpsvilkåra finn du i bestillingsskjemaet som er lagt ved kvart enkelt trykk. Ved kjøp under 5000 ,- kan du nytte deg av Vipps. Vel «Vipps» som betalingsløysing i bestillingsskjemaet for å få tilsendt vippskrav. Faktura sendast ved bestilling over 5000,-. Ved gjennomført betaling får du tilsendt trykket heim. Eg overrekker gjerne trykket personleg, ved geografisk nærleik.

 

Skywoman Falling

«In winter, when the green earth lies resting beneath a blanket of snow, this is the time for storytelling. The storytellers begin by calling upon those who came before who passed the stories down to us, for we are only messengers. 

In the beginning there was the Skyworld.

She fell like a maple seed, pirouetting on an autumn breeze. A column of light streamed from a hole in the Skyworld, marking her path where only darkness had been before. It took her a long time to fall. In fear, or maybe hope, she clutched a bundle tightly in her hand.

Hurtling downward, she saw only dark water below. But in that emptiness there were many eyes gazing up at the sudden shaft of light. They saw there a small object, a mere dust mote in the beam. As it grew closer, they could see that it was a woman, arms outstretched, long black hair billowing behind as she spiraled toward them.

The geese nodded at one another and rose together from the water in a wave of goose music. She felt the beat of their wings as they flew beneath to break her fall. Far from the only home she’d ever known, she caught her breath at the warm embrace of soft feathers as they gently carried her downward. And so it began.

The geese could not hold the woman above the water for much longer, so they called a council to decide what to do. Resting on their wings, she saw them all gather: loons, otters, swans, beavers, fish of all kinds. A great turtle floated in their midst and offered his back for her to rest upon. Gratefully, she stepped from the goose wings onto the dome of his shell. The others understood that she needed land for her home and discussed how they might serve her need. The deep divers among them had heard of mud at the bottom of the water and agreed to go find some.

Loon dove first, but the distance was too far and after a long while he surfaced with nothing to show for his efforts. One by one, the other animals offered to help – Otter, Beaver, Sturgeon – but the depth, the darkness, and the pressures were too great for even the strongest of swimmers. They returned gasping for air with their heads ringing. Some did not return at all. Soon only little Muskrat was left, the weakest diver of all. He volunteered to go while the others looked on doubtfully. His small legs flailed as he worked his way downward and he was gone a very long time.

They waited and waited for him to return, fearing the worst for their relative, and, before long, a stream of bubbles rose with the small, limp body of the muskrat. He had given his life to aid this helpless human. But then the others noticed that his paw was tightly clenched and, when they opened it, there was a small handful of mud. Turtle said, «Here, put it on my back and I will hold it».

Skywoman bent and spread the mud with her hands across the shell of the turtle. Moved by the extraordinary gifts of the animals, she sang in thanksgiving and then began to dance, her feet caressing the earth. The land grew and grew as she danced her thanks, from the dab of mud on Turtle’s back until the whole earth was made. Not by Skywoman alone, but from the alchemy of all the animals’ gifts coupled with her deep gratitude. Together they formed what we know today as Turtle Island, our home.

Like any good guest, Skywoman had not come empty-handed. The bundle was still clutched in her hand. When she toppled from the hole in the Skyworld she had reached out to grab onto the Tree of Life that grew there. In her grasp were branches – fruits and seeds of all kinds of plants. These she scattered onto the new ground and carefully tended each one until the world turned from brown to green.

Sunlight streamed through the hole from the Skyworld, allowing the seeds to flourish. Wild grasses, flowers, trees, and medicines spread everywhere. And now that the animals, too, had plenty to eat, many came to live with her on Turtle Island»

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