In 2008 I had a booth at the Zion Flute Festival. I later wrote to my sister about an amazing experience…
There were concerts at night but my friends and I, who were also vendors at the festival, preferred to gather and play music together. We enjoyed allowing the evening to unfold. On the night that just happened to be daddy’s birthday, my friend Tim Blueflint and I were talking about his grandmother, who had recently died. They had been very close; she was a medicine woman and had taught him many things. Tim conducted the opening ceremonies at Zion every morning. He has a background in medicine, both Native and Western and he makes incredible flutes.
I told him I had recently written a poem called Singing With Stars. I wanted to read it honor of his grandmother and my daddy, both who now walked with the ancestors. We were sitting on a picnic table in the campground and I began to read. Tim picked up one of his wonderful handmade flutes and began to play while I read. Everyone stopped what they were doing as a powerful awe and a hush of wonder fell across this moment, the music, the poem.
Another gentleman, who I had not yet met, sat nearby. When I had completed reading the poem he asked me if he might read it in his native tongue. I told him I would be honored and I handed him my overflowing journal which contained the poem. His name was John Bear and he began to read and, at the same time, sign with hands in a most amazing beauty. Like translating a dream, I watched. I was mezmerized. The poem went to depths which I don’t know how to describe in words. There were visible sparks; it was so lovely. When John stopped, there was a whirlwind right in front of me, in the dirt. Daddy often makes himself known to me by the dandelion puffs. Tonight there were massive white puffs…cottonwood puffs. I turned to Tim and said, “My father is here.”
The next day I thanked John Bear for reading my poem. It was a honor, I told him. He looked at me with a strange look and said, “No, the honor was mine. I haven’t been able to do that (type of reading) for over six years. I have gone thru some difficulties in my life and it was very healing to read your work.”
It wasn’t until a month ago that I learned that John Bear read Singing With Stars in his medicine language… a sacred language only used in ceremony. No wonder there were sparks and such a powerful response. I am not surprised that daddy showed up…
I later made a one-of-a-kind book out of this poem. I used fence posts, acrylic paint and hand made paper. Here is a photo of the “in the making” process…
In the next blog, the third of this three part series, I will show you this visual book that was created out of a gift that my father gave me as a child. I will also read you, Singing With Stars.
Tim Blueflint and John Bear are my friends and an important part of my life. If you click on Tim’s name you can see some of the exceptional work that he produces.
(c) Diane L. Mathias, . All rights reserved.