Archaeoacoustics and 'Songs of the Caves'

Archaeoacoustics is a sub-field of archaeology and acoustics which studies the relationship between people and sound throughout history. It is an interdisciplinary field with methodological contributions from acoustics, archaeology, and computer simulation, and is broadly related to topics within cultural anthropology such as experimental archaeology and ethnomusicology. Since many cultures have sonic components, applying acoustical methods to the study of archaeological sites and artifacts may reveal new information on the civilizations examined.

 

The importance of sound in ritual practice is well attested by historical and anthropological evidence. Voices and instruments (pipes, drums) will also have played a key role for prehistoric societies, and a number of studies have sought to demonstrate that by measuring the acoustical properties of archaeological spaces and open-air locations. One of the principal difficulties, however, is to establish a robust methodology. Every space or location will have an acoustic signature, but that does not imply that vocal or musical performance was an essential part of ritual practice; nor that those places were specially designed or selected for their acoustical properties.
 

Palaeolithic painted caves have occupied a special place in this debate since studies in the 1980s suggested that the placement of paintings and murals within the caves might have been guided by the acoustics; that they might be directly correlated with resonance. In 2013, Durham University (Durham, England) archaeologist Chris Scarre joined a team of acousticians, archaeologists and musicians led by Professor Rupert Till (Huddersfield University) in a systematic on-site analysis of acoustic properties and prehistoric motifs in five Upper Palaeolithic painted caves in northern Spain: La Garma, El Castillo, La Pasiega, Las Chimeneas and Tito Bustillo. The Arts and Humanities Research Council funded project was supported by Spanish colleagues Manuel Rojo-Guerra and Roberto Ontañon, with permission from the Gobierno de Cantabria and Gobierno Del Principado de Asturias.
 

Their methodology in recording the acoustics of these caves was to use a swept-sine (also called a chirp) source signal in conjunction with a set of microphones, adjusting the position of the set-up to provide an overview of the acoustics of specific sections of the caves. In each location that was measured, the position of imagery on the cave walls was also recorded. The fieldwork generated a large body of data that was used to generate acoustic maps of the five caves that could be compared with the distribution of the imagery (paintings or engravings, representational images of animals, or abstract symbols). A Principal Components Analysis (a mathematical method used to reduce a large data set into a smaller one while maintaining most of its variation information) provided an averaged set of acoustical characteristics. This showed that the variance of the acoustic data can be explained by two main components, associated with (a) temporal decay of energy (rate at which it fades to silence) in the cave space and (b) the existence or absence of resonance. Other factors, such as the distance of motifs from the original cave entrances (some of them now blocked) were also recorded.
 

Statistical analysis concluded that motifs in general, and lines and dots in particular, are statistically more likely to be found in places where reverberation is moderate and where the low frequency acoustic response has evidence of resonant behavior. The results suggest that the location of Palaeolithic motifs might indeed be associated with acoustic features, and that an appreciation of sound could have influenced behavior among Palaeolithic societies using these caves. The study also demonstrated the application of a systematic methodology of recording and analysis to the archaeoacoustics of prehistoric spaces.

Climate-Endangered Tribe Sues Louisiana

By now, you're likely well aware of the climate crisis and its significant dangers to Indigenous communities the world over. The problem is especially magnified on islands and in coastal regions, where sea level rise can wipe away traditional homelands and make climate refugees of those who have been displaced. That's true even right here in the United States, where hundreds of Native communities -- in South Dakota, Alaska, Florida, Hawai'i, Washington, and Louisiana -- face existential threats.
 

And now, the first community to supposedly be moved from harm's way -- the Jean Charles Choctaw Nation -- is facing a new set of problems. Just before the new year, the tribe filed a landmark civil rights complaint with the U.S. Department of Housing and Urban Development (HUD) against the state of Louisiana. In 2016, HUD granted Louisiana $48 million in aid to resettle the tribe. But, its complaint asserts, Louisiana failed to properly implement the grant and has ethnically and racially discriminated, violated tribal sovereignty, excluded cultural components central to a proper relocation program, and provided poor replacement housing.
 

The Jean Charles Choctaw Nation has resided on the Isle de Jean Charles for five generations, since the ancestors of its citizens escaped the Trail of Tears in the early 1830s amid President Andrew Jackson's Indian Removal Act. Its homelands and burial grounds are located in a region facing perpetual devastation and erosion by storms and sea level rise. Since 1955, the Jean Charles Choctaw Nation has lost over 98 percent of its lands to the encroaching ocean.
 

It's also worth noting that the tribe is located in Terrebonne Parish, a region notorious for oil extraction, high pollution rates, and environmental justice violations. The Parish and over 90 percent of its property are largely controlled by non-local fossil fuel and chemical companies. The infamous "Cancer Alley" is just upstream.
 

By filing its complaint with HUD, the Jean Charles Choctaw Nation is looking to the federal agency to investigate the grant-funded resettlement program, currently run by Louisiana's Office of Community Development (OCD). The tribe hopes HUD will order OCD to respect tribal needs and authority as the program's implementation proceeds. The lawsuit is also significant in that, while the tribe has state recognition from Louisiana, it does not have federal recognition, which would extend access to more grants, disaster assistance, and various legal powers -- including constitutional protections and self-governance recognized by the United States.

Environmental Victory for Alaska Natives

On January 8th, the U.S. Supreme Court rejected the State of Alaska's bid to fast-track the legal process, overrule the Environmental Protection Agency (EPA), and gain approval for the Pebble Mine -- slated to extract enormous amounts of copper, gold, and molybdenum from the pristine and sensitive ecosystem known as Bristol Bay. Located in a remote, wild, and generally uninhabited part of Southwest Alaska, Pebble is the largest known undeveloped copper ore body in the world.
 

The populations in the area rely heavily on wild resources for subsistence, harvesting moose, caribou and salmon. Wild resources play an important part in the region's cultural heritage. There are more than 30 Alaskan native tribes in the region that depend on salmon to support their traditional subsistence ways of life, in addition to other inhabitants and tourists in the area. A diverse coalition led by Alaska Natives has consistently fought against the proposed mine for more than two decades. It eventually gained support from the EPA, which ultimately blocked the mine proposal in January 2023 over concerns it would threaten an aquatic ecosystem supporting the world's most prolific sockeye salmon fishery.
 

This decision is significant, particularly considering the current High Court's tendency to support states' rights, limits on regulation -- especially of the environmental variety -- and corporate concerns. Alaska's request, filed in June, was unusual in that it sought to skip lower appeals courts to challenge the EPA's decision on the basis that it violated Alaska's state sovereignty.
 

Under the law, alleged violations of state sovereignty are one of the few categories of cases that grant the Supreme Court original jurisdiction -- meaning a state can bypass the usual state/federal court appeals process and file straight with the High Court. The justices could easily have decided to hear the case and decide in favor of the mining company, which has shown no qualms about engaging in some shady business practices over the years.
 

As the single most productive sockeye salmon fishery in the world, Bristol Bay contains biodiversity and abundant wild fish populations which present a stark contrast to many other fisheries in the Pacific Northwest (and worldwide). All five Eastern Pacific salmon species spawn in Bristol Bay's freshwater tributaries. Most have experienced severe depletion over the last few decades. Sockeye salmon, like all Pacific Salmon, are a keystone species, vital to the health of an entire ecosystem. Of course, salmon also provide a sacred food source for Indigenous communities up and down the West Coast.
 

Kudos to the United Tribes of Bristol Bay, a consortium of Alaska Native tribes fighting to preserve the traditional Yup'ik, Dena'ina, and Alutiiq ways of life in Southwest Alaska, for leading the charge. The Supreme Court's decision confirms all the hard work put in by tribes and allies, including the Save Bristol Bay Coalition. It remains to be seen whether Alaska's conservative leadership will continue with legal challenges at a lower court level -- but, for now, Indigenous People have won a big battle in this decades-long fight to protect their homelands.

Native Actor Lily Gladstone Makes History

Today, I share with you some great news! On January 7, in case you missed it, Blackfeet and Nez Perce actor Lily Gladstone made history as the Golden Globes' first Indigenous winner in the category of Best Actress in a Motion Picture Drama. Gladstone, who goes by both she/they pronouns, brought an understated power to their portrayal of Mollie Burkhardt, an Osage woman struggling amid the murders of her family and community by greedy settlers, in Martin Scorcese's "Killers of the Flower Moon."
 

After beginning their acceptance speech with a traditional Blackfeet introduction and a round of thank-yous, Gladstone said something important and inspiring: "This is a historic win, but it doesn't belong to just me. I'm holding it with all of my beautiful sisters. And this is for every rez kid, every little urban kid, every little Native kid out there who has a dream, who is seeing themselves represented and our stories, told by ourselves in our own words, with tremendous allies and tremendous trust from with and from each other."
 

That last statement is filled with both truth and nuance. It's a beautiful sentiment, but Gladstone may also be acknowledging that Hollywood remains a place with rich and powerful gatekeepers. Even in 2024, non-Native filmmakers (allies or not) like James Cameron (the "Avatar" franchise) and Scorcese are most often still the ones helming stories featuring Indigenous People and perspectives.
 

This needs to change. Allies are important, and representation is wonderful. Still, even the most positive representation on-screen is not the same thing as agency -- the ability to tell their own stories, centering their own narratives. And agency, particularly for the Native women without whom this story does not exist and the movie could not function, is largely missing for much of "Killers of the Flower Moon." When Native actors occupy the screen, the movie seems to vibrate at a different frequency. I'm left wondering what could have been had their characters' arcs been less peripheral.
 

Much has been written about the movie by Indigenous People across the nation. From a glowing review by Vincent Schilling, founder and editor of NativeViewpoint.com, to a scathing indictment from "Reservation Dogs" star Devery Jacobs, opinions on the movie vary widely -- and understandably so. The three-hour-plus epic, based on true events, is ambitious, messy, and devastating. Critics praise the movie's effort to highlight Osage history with Indigenous actors in prominent roles but express reservations about its graphic violence and lack of historical context, foregrounding of white characters and lack of an Indigenous screenwriter or director. One thing everyone seems to agree upon, though, is the powerful performances given by Gladstone and other Native People in supporting roles. I, for one, look forward to seeing more from all of them, especially in movies and shows written and directed by Indigenous storytellers.

Winter Solstice: The Return of the Light

In the Northern Hemisphere, the Winter Solstice is the shortest day of the year and the first day of winter. This occurs December 20, 21, or 22, varying from year to year, dependent upon the elliptical path of the Earth around our Sun. Technically the solstice marks the instant at which the Earth's axis stops tilting away from the sun and starts going back the other way. Solstice means "Standing-Still-Sun." At Winter Solstice, the Sun journeys farthest south in its orbital path and for the next three days it rises and sets at virtually the same place on the horizon, appearing to stand still, and then it slowly returns north.
 

This three day pause in the Sun's movement is a time of inward reflection. We are each given the opportunity to take a peek at what is happening on a heart and soul level. We can reflect on the year ending to see where we have erred and reform those beliefs, attitudes, and strategies no longer applicable to the New Year unfolding. Such a fresh open-minded approach will broaden our perspective and start us out on the right track.
 

Ancient peoples in our northern climes regarded Winter Solstice as the pivotal time of year. It is a time of transition in the annual cycle when the old year ends and our journey into the New Year begins. It is a sacred time to conduct ceremonies focused on the return of light and warmth. Rituals designed to divert nature from the path toward eternal winter and oblivion to one directed toward light and prosperity. Most cultures planned festivals and celebrations at or around the Winter Solstice to ensure that the Sun would return.
 

The Pueblos of the American Southwest have honored the Winter Solstice for thousands of years. Zuni Indians celebrate Shalako and Hopis begin the observance of the month long Soyal with rituals to insure victory of light over darkness. Hopi priests wear feathers in their headdresses symbolizing the Sun's rays. Sacred underground structures called kivas let in the rays of the rising and setting Sun and Moon throughout the year. Among the Pueblos, Winter Solstice is an affirmation of the continuation of life; that the cyclical order of time and the cosmos will continue intact.
 

Fire and light have always played a central role in the Winter Solstice ceremonies. In much of northern Europe people ignited huge bonfires. Lighted candles were often placed on the branches of evergreen trees, which symbolized survival and eternal life. These symbols of warmth and lasting life were lit to hasten the "old" Sun's waning and the "new" Sun's rebirth. People often tied apples to the branches of firs and oaks to remind themselves that summer would eventually return. In the British Isles, mistletoe was placed upon altars. Mistletoe's golden color was believed to store the power of the Sun, especially when plucked at the solstice.
 

In Peru, the people fasted for three days prior to the solstice. At dawn on the morning of the fourth day, everyone gathered in the public plaza to watch the sunrise. When its light appeared, the celebration began with shouts of joy. At the Sun Temple the rays of the Sun were focused with a mirror to make a fire. This sacred fire was carried to all the outlying temples, where it was kept burning on the altars throughout the year.
 

In my own solstice celebration, I like to incorporate a sacred fire. Before the Sun sets on the solstice, I will light a large candle or oil lamp, call the spirit of the Sun into that fire, and allow it to burn until morning, when his spirit has returned to the sky.
 

On the Winter Solstice we are all praying, on some level, for the darkness to end. "Just return the light!" the ceremonies seem to say. As we celebrate the return of the light, we affirm the continuation of life at the very moment of dissolution. To be sure, dark days lie ahead. But contained within each is the promise of brighter tomorrows.

Life is a Walking

A Native American elder talks about the Sacred Gift of Choice, given to all the Two-Legged Beings:
 

"I am Good Buffalo Eagle. Hear my words.
 

The Creator gave all Two-Legged beings a sacred gift. We call this the Gift of Choice. Regardless of where we are born, all come to earth with this gift. Along with this Gift of Choice, all Two-Legged beings have a sense of knowing right from wrong from the One Who Stands Within. Therefore, the Gift of Choice allows us to choose knowingly.
 

My Pauline, the Woman of my Heart, states that in her Navajo language, life is a walking, a journey. So, if life upon Mother Earth is a journey, there are two ways to walk.
 

By applying the Gift of Choice, we can choose to walk forward or we can choose to walk backward. Because we choose knowingly, with every step we take forward or backward, we are accountable.
 

Because we are accountable, there are consequences. Consequences, however, are not chosen. They might be delayed, but by and by they will come.
 

Forward Walking choices are rewarded with consequences that light the way to peace, happiness, joy, comfort, knowledge, and wisdom. Backward Walking choices bring to the Two-Legged beings consequences of misery, despair, and darkness.
 

At the end of our lives, when our bodies are about to be laid in Mother Earth, we will know for ourselves whether we are a Two-Legged being full of light or a Two-Legged being full of darkness. At that time, we cannot turn around and point a finger accusingly in the air. We will know because We are the ones who chose to walk forward toward the light or backward toward darkness.
 

Hear my words. Don't believe the dark whisperings that invite you to walk backward. At any time in your life, you have the power to turn forward. No matter how young or old you are, you have the power to turn and walk forward.
 

We extend an invitation to all to utilize the power of the Gift of Choice, which will teach us the Forward Walkings that will bring peace. Let's look at the present and with anticipation into the future at what we can become -- a Two-Legged being full of light!
 

I am Good Buffalo Eagle and I have spoken."
 

An excerpt from the book The Seven Paths: Changing One's Way of Walking in the World.

Initiation into Shamanism

Shamanic initiation is a rite of passage, connecting the apprentice shaman intimately to Spirit. It is probably the most powerful and least understood of all forms of spiritual awakening. It is not achieved by having mastered a body of knowledge or having completed some long-term training program. Though it may be set in motion by an apprentice's human teachers as part of an ordered training process, authentic initiation can only be conveyed by the spirits themselves. Ultimately, shamanic initiation takes place between the initiate and the spirit world. It is the spirits who choose and make the shaman.
 

The most frequent and most genuine manner of shamanic initiation is that of crisis, often involving psychological and physical suffering. The encounter with illness, suffering, and death not only opens the world of the spirits to the shaman, it also provides an experiential ground for the healing work that the shaman will later be doing. Election can also occur through heredity, signs at birth, a proclivity or gift that is recognized in childhood, through a realization arising in the course of a ceremonial event, or in the experience of a vision quest.
 

Shamanic initiation is typically the final step in becoming a shamanic healer, a process that is facilitated by the aspirant's shamanic teachers as part of a training regimen. However, initiation may also be spontaneous, set in motion by Spirit's intervention into the initiate's life. To be initiated by a helping spirit forever transforms your life. For the uninitiated, this can be problematic to say the least. They may have no clear idea of what is happening to them, and may find themselves overwhelmed by fear of their nonordinary experience. 

The Dismemberment Journey

Initiation into shamanhood often involves the visionary experience of symbolic dismemberment--the experience of being taken apart, devoured, or torn to pieces. In a classic dismemberment journey, the apprentice witnesses their own body being torn apart and perhaps completely destroyed. The apprentice dies a symbolic death and is then restored and brought back to life, whole and empowered. At its deepest level, the dismemberment experience dismantles our old identity. It is a powerful death-and-rebirth process. The experience of being stripped layer by layer, down to bare bones forces us to examine the bare essence of what we truly are.
 

Anthropologist Felicitas Goodman, the modern discoverer of Ecstatic Body Postures, notes that Siberian shamans considered dismemberment to be an essential phase of initiation for healers. Goodman researched and explored ritual body postures as a means to achieve a bodily induced trance experience and discovered that this archetype appears to be universal. In her trance work with Westerners, those who experienced spontaneous dismemberment visions were invariably destined to become various kinds of healers.
 

Completing this restorative rite is precisely the task of the shaman. As Joan Halifax explains in her book Shamanic Voices, "The shaman is a healed healer who has retrieved the broken pieces of his or her body and psyche and, through a personal rite of transformation, has integrated many planes of life experience: the body and the spirit, the ordinary and nonordinary, the individual and the community, nature and supernature, the mythic and the historical, the past, the present and the future." The cure for dismemberment is remembering who we actually are. As Halifax puts it, "To bring back to an original state that which was in primordial times whole and is now broken and dismembered is not only an act of unification, but also a divine remembrance of a time when a complete reality existed."(1)
 

Shamanic initiation functions as a transformer--it causes a radical change in the initiate forever. An initiation marks a transition into a new way of being in the world. It informs us about the mystery of life and death. According to noted shamanic teacher and author Sandra Ingerman, "Initiation is the death, dismembering, and dissolving of old forms, structures, and ways of life. And I have come to understand that true initiation is allowing Spirit to sing into creation the new forms and new creations. Allowing Spirit to sing formlessness into form creates a new evolution of consciousness."(2)
 

Shamanic initiation is complicated, profound and nothing short of life-altering--in the best possible way. While it may not be easy, it will improve your life for the better with patience, trial and error, and the passage of time. If you find yourself in one, all you can do is trust the process, hang on tight, and get ready for a newly awakened life.
 

Global Dismemberment
 

There is so much more to discover and explore about shamanic initiations and the deep spiritual knowledge held in Indigenous cultures. Now that the present world-age during which all human civilization developed is ending, it might be time to pay more attention to the experience of those whose world has already ended: Indigenous peoples. Depending on how you count them, there may be up to three hundred million Indigenous people still on the planet. Most are survivors of colonialism. The genocide of the Indigenous peoples was the beginning of the modern world for Europeans, but the former remain as veritable end of the world experts. Models for restoring our relationship with the earth exist in the cultures of Indigenous peoples, whose values and skills have enabled them to survive centuries of invasion and exploitation.
 

From an Indigenous perspective, the global climate and ecological crisis represents a mass shamanic dismemberment--the experience of being taken apart, devoured, or torn to pieces on a global scale, allowing for a shift of awareness and transformation of collective consciousness. The acceleration of planetary crises can either provoke a planetary awakening and a shift into a regenerative planetary culture based on shamanic wisdom and sustainable principles, or a destruction of human civilization in its current form, and perhaps extinction for our species. We are all responsible, for better or worse.

 

As the global upheaval intensifies, our interest in shamanism represents an attempt to retrieve and include a part of our inner and outer lives that technology and civilization has consistently denied, suppressed, or destroyed since the advent of agriculture. The cultural imprinting of hierarchical, agriculturally based societies leaves the individual outside the realm of personal spiritual experience. Any sense of the Great Mystery is beyond the individual's grasp. In the contemporary world, where our rites of passage for young men mean going to war, in a world where social turmoil and environmental disaster induce fear, anxiety and despair, the way of the shaman, the one who is a master of the initiatic crisis, might well be of great value for all of us.

 

1. Joan Halifax, Shamanic Voices: A Survey of Visionary Narratives (Penguin, 1991), pp. 18-22.
2. Sandra Ingerman. "Messages from Sandra Ingerman." Transmutation News (Mar. 2011): <https://www.sandraingerman.com/transmutation-news/english/english-2011/page/2/>.

The Shamanic Horse

The drum, often called the shaman's horse, provides the shamanic practitioner a relatively easy means of controlled transcendence. Researchers have found that if a drum beat frequency of around three to four beats per second is sustained for at least 15 minutes, it will induce significant trance states in most people, even on their first attempt. The drum becomes the practitioner's mount, and the drumstick becomes a riding crop. Riding the rhythm of the drum at the speed of sound, the practitioner journeys to the inner planes of consciousness and back.
 

Through the sound of the drum, which is customarily made of wood from the World Tree (axis mundi), the practitioner is transported to the cosmic axis (spinal column) within and conveyed from plane to plane. As noted Tuvan Siberian ethnomusicologist Valentina Suzukei explains: "There is a bridge on these sound waves so you can go from one world to another. In the sound world, a tunnel opens through which we can pass, or the shaman's spirits come to us. When you stop playing the drum, the bridge disappears."(1)
 

The shamanic horse, namely the single-headed frame drum, originated in Siberia, along with shamanism itself thousands of years ago. Shamanic drumming is considered one of the oldest methods for healing and accessing inner wisdom. Practiced in diverse cultures around the planet, this drum method is strikingly similar the world over. Shamanic drumming uses a repetitive rhythm that begins slowly and then gradually builds in intensity to a tempo of three to seven beats per second. The ascending tempo will induce light to deep trance states. Practitioners may progress through a series of trance states until they reach the level that is necessary for healing to occur.
 

Basically, shamanic drumming is a technique of accessing and directing archetypal or transpersonal powers for healing and manifesting what is needed to benefit the community. It is a simple and effortless way to still the incessant chatter of the mind, thereby inducing a shamanic trance state. Shamanic drumming carries awareness into the transcendent realm of the collective unconscious, the infinite creative matrix of all that we are, have been and will ever be. It is an inward spiritual journey of ecstasy in which one interacts with the inner world, thereby influencing the outer world.
 

During shamanic flight, the sound of the drum serves as a guidance system indicating where the journeyer is at any moment or where they might need to go. The drumbeat also serves as an anchor or lifeline that the traveler follows to return to their body when the trance work is complete. One of the paradoxes of rhythm is that it has both the capacity to move your awareness out of your body into realms beyond time and space, and to ground you firmly in the present moment. It allows you to maintain a portion of ordinary awareness while experiencing nonordinary awareness. This allows recall or recollection of the visionary experience. When ready to exit the trance state, the practitioner simply slows the tempo of drumming, drawing consciousness back to normal. Shamanic drumming continues to offer today what it has offered for millennia -- a simple and effective technique of ecstasy.
 

Although sounding simple and redundant, the unique connection between the drum and the practitioner gives this drumming great power, richness and depth. According to Valentina Suzukei, "shamanic drumming is not monotonous at all. Constant changes in timbre and volume keep them interesting...If you don’t listen for timbre, but only for pitch and rhythm the music is boring, monotonous. But the player's every smallest change of mood is reflected in timbre."(2)
 

It is the subtle variations in timbre and ever-changing overtones of the drum that allow the shamanic practitioner to communicate with the spiritual realm. Drumming opens one's inner, spiritual ears and eyes and also calls the helping spirits. By changing and listening to the tones, pitches and harmonics of the drum, the practitioner is able to send messages to and receive them from the spirit world.
 

The Shaman's Steed
 

The role of the horse in Siberian shamanism is predominately that of an animal that transports a shaman in his journeys, especially his journeys to the World Tree. In the shamanic traditions of East, Central and North Asia, winged horses symbolize the shaman's soul or the shaman's steed carrying the rider to Heaven. Among the Yakut people of Siberia, the drum was symbolically called kulan-at or "wild horse." The drum was the very heart of the shaman's steed. The Buryat, a Mongolic ethnic group native to southeastern Siberia, make their drums out of horse skins. The Buryat see the stars as a herd of horses tethered to the World Tree, which is represented by the pole star.
 

Throughout Mongolia, the drum is called Omisi Murin, which translates as Spirit Horse. The repetitive, rhythmic cadence of shamanic drumming is evocative of a horse on a journey. Mongolian and Siberian shamans describe it as the blissful, transcendent state that one mounts and rides from plane to plane. As Siberian shaman Tania Kobezhikova puts it, "My drum can connect me to the earth or carry me like a flying horse."(3) We can ride Spirit Horse on journeys through the inner realms of consciousness. As a form of transport for the body and the soul, Spirit Horse will let you ride him and will take you where you want to go. Do you need to get somewhere physical or spiritual? Spirit Horse will assist you and serve as your guardian spirit, giving safety in your physical and metaphysical journeys.

1. Kira Van Deusen, "Shamanism and Music in Tuva and Khakassia," Shaman's Drum, No. 47, Winter 1997, p. 24.
2. Kira Van Deusen, Singing Story, Healing Drum: Shamans and Storytellers of Turkic Siberia (McGill-Queen's Press, 2005), p. 124.
3. Van Deusen, Singing Story, Healing Drum, p. 122.

The Mysterious Peterborough Petroglyphs

The Peterborough Petroglyphs are the largest collection of ancient rock carvings in all of North America, made up of over 900 images carved into crystalline limestone located near Peterborough in Ontario, Canada.

Designated a National Historic Site of Canada in 1976, local indigenous people believe that this is an entrance into the spirit world and that the Spirits actually speak to them from this location. They call it Kinoomaagewaapkong, which translates to "the rocks that teach."

The petroglyphs are carved into a single slab of crystalline limestone which is 55 metres long and 30 metres wide. About 300 of the images are decipherable shapes, including animals, humans, shamans, solar symbols, geometric shapes and boats.

It is generally believed that the indigenous Algonkian people carved the petroglyphs between 900 and 1400 AD. But rock art is usually impossible to date accurately for lack of any carbon material and dating artefacts or relics found in proximity to the site only reveals information about the last people to be there. They could be thousands of years older than experts allow, if only because the extensive weathering of some of the glyphs implies more than 1,000 years of exposure.

There are some other mysteries surrounding these remarkable petroglyphs. The boat carvings bear little resemblance to the traditional boat of the Native Americans. One solar boat -- a stylized shaman vessel with a long mast surmounted by the sun -- is typical of petroglyphs found in northern Russia and Scandanavia. A Harvard professor believes the petroglyphs are inscriptions (and maybe even a form of written language) left by a Norse king named Woden-lithi, who was believed to have sailed from Norway down the St. Lawrence River in about 1700 B.C., long before the Greenland Viking explorations.

Another vessel depicted in the petroglyphs is a large ship with banks of oars and figure-heads at bow and stern. There is a large steering oar at the stern, a necessary feature only for vessels that are 100 feet or more in length. However, the Algonkian people who inhabited the region never built anything more seaworthy than a birch-bark canoe or a dugout. Even reluctant archaeologists admit that the ships "do not look like real Algonkian canoes" but steer away from any controversial conclusions about pre-Columbian visitors by speculating that the vessels are simply a shaman's idea of magical canoes that travel the universe.

Another peculiarity is the figure-heads at bow and stern which resemble birds. The same design can be seen in Etruscan repousse gold work of the 9th century BC. The bird-headed ships were portrayed 200 years earlier, when Egyptian artists carved their images into the walls of Pharaoh Ramses IIIs "Victory Temple" in the Valley of the Kings.

Yet another mystery is the presence in the petroglyphs of a tall figure or 'god' which stands with arms akimbo and with a halo radiating rays, presumably from the sun. Cowering before him are two minute humble humans in attitudes of supplication. Scientists think the figure may represent a sun god but there doesn't exist any known cases of sun worship among the indigenous people of the region.

Some historians and researchers believe there is more to the petroglyphs than meets the eye. Some maintain that they are in fact a sky map of the heavens based on European tradition from 3100 BC. Evidence includes four signs which are the same as those found for the identical astronomical position at Lewes, England, leading to a possible speculative connection between the Peterborough petroglyphs and the megalithic people of Ancient Britain.

So the petroglyphs of Peterborough remain an intriguing riddle, a sort of code to which the key is still missing.

168 New Nazca Geoglyphs Discovered

More than 100 new designs discovered in and around Peru's Nazca plain and surrounding areas could bring new information to light about the ancient artworks that have intrigued scientists and visitors for decades. Following two years of field surveys with aerial photos and drones, Peruvian and Japanese researches from Yamagata University reported the discovery of 168 new designs at the Unesco World Heritage site on Peru's southern Pacific coast.
 

The geoglyphs, huge figures carved into the South American desert, date back more than 2,000 years and depict living creatures, stylized plants and imaginary beings, as well as geometric figures several kilometres long. Jorge Olano, head archaeologist for the Nazca Lines research program, said the newly discovered figures averaged between 2 and 6 meters (6.56 to 19.7ft) in length.
 

The purpose of the Nazca Lines, which could only be seen from the air, remains a mystery. These new findings, however, are smaller and can be seen from the ground. The figures, iconic vestiges of Peru's rich history, are about a three-hour drive from the capital, Lima. Researchers had already discovered 190 figures in the area since 2004. But the vastness of the terrain they cover has complicated efforts to study and conserve the heritage site.
 

Yamagata University said the research will be used in artificial intelligence-based surveys to help inform the lines' preservation. Studies from the university in collaboration with Peru's government have helped delineate and protect the area, which is facing threats from urban and economic developments. Some geoglyphs are in danger of being destroyed due to the recent expansion of mining-related workshops in the archaeological park. 

 

Anthropologists, ethnologists, and archaeologists have studied the ancient Nazca culture to try to determine the purpose of the lines and figures. One hypothesis is that the Nazca people created them to be seen by deities in the sky. Another theory is related to astronomy and cosmology, as has been common in monuments of other ancient cultures: the lines were intended to act as a kind of observatory, to point to the places on the distant horizon where the sun and other celestial bodies rose or set at the solstices.

Other theories were that the geometric lines could indicate water flow or irrigation schemes, or be a part of rituals to "summon" water. The spiders, birds, and plants may be fertility symbols. It also has been theorized that the lines could act as an astronomical calendar, as proved by the presence of radial centers aligned along the directions of winter solstice and equinox sunset. Researchers believe that the geoglyphs were the venues of events linked to the agriculture calendar. These also served to strengthen social cohesion among various groups of pilgrims, sharing common ancestors and religious beliefs.

The Many Lives of Mongolian Shamanism

The following is excerpted from Sky Shamans of Mongolia: Meetings with Remarkable Healers by Kevin Turner.
 

For thousands of years, Mongolia has been a nexus of Eurasian shamanisms that competed, mixed, and meshed across our planet's largest continent. Shamanism appears to have emerged with the very dawn of human consciousness, but archeologists can probably speak with confidence about only the past 30,000 to 70,000 years.
 

Archeological discoveries in Eurasia alone indicate that the practice of shamanism reaches back at least to 35,000 BCE, easily making shamanism the oldest spiritual practice known to mankind. Modern religious faiths such as Buddhism and Christianity are toddlers in comparison, and psychology is a mere newborn.
 

The word shaman originated from the Tungusic tribal language groups (from areas to the north and east of Mongolia), which are related to Mongolic languages. These are both part of the broader Altaic language group, which includes Turkic, Manchurian, and scores of other Inner Asian and Siberian languages, and may include Korean and Japanese at the easternmost reach. The modern term "shaman" has now been adopted by many as a catch-all word to describe those who by spiritual means seek direct access to information and healing power not ordinarily available.
 

The nomadic northern Siberian shamanic traditions tend to retain the highly individualistic aspects of shamanism; by contrast, a most interesting facet of Mongolian and Inner Asian shamanism is the amalgamation of the shamans' direct experiences of other realities with a religious belief system known as Tengerism (Heaven or Sky God-ism). Tengerism originated in Sumeria, one of humanity's earliest civilizations, and probably derived from the early experiences of the shamans, prophets, and mystics of pre-Mesopotamian eras.
 

The modern Mongolian term Tenger (or Tengri), meaning both "sky realms" and "sky spirits," almost certainly derives from the Sumerian word Dingir, also meaning both "sky realm(s)" and "deity(-ies)." The concept of divinity in Sumerian was closely associated with the heavens, evident from the shared cuneiform sign for both heaven and sky, and from the fact that its earliest form is a star shape. The name of every deity in Sumerian is prefixed by a star symbol. 

 

Mircea Eliade proposed that Tengrism may be the closest thing we have found to a reconstructed proto-Indo-European religion. It is also evident that Tengrism's three-layered worldview is nearly identical to the tripartite world found in many kinds of shamanism, as well as the Vedic triloka ("three realms") world structure.
 

In Mongolian, one who travels the realms of the Tengers is called a Tengeri--"sky-dweller; sky-walker." I like to think that Luke Skywalker, the young warrior-shaman Jedi knight of the fictional Star Wars films, may have inherited his name from this tradition. Interestingly, the BBC reports that in censuses taken in 2001 regarding spiritual beliefs, hundreds of thousands of people selected "Jediism" as their faith of choice--such is the power of shamanism even in our modern myths and legends.
 

The earliest authenticated records of Mongolian shamanism go back to the beginnings of the Hunnu Dynasty, 209-93 CE (also known as the Xiongnu in Chinese records). Mongolian legend tells us that, during this time, a nine-year-old Hunnu boy united with a she-wolf, engendering the modern-day Mongolian people. The headdress of a shaman (circa 300–100 BCE) was found in one of the graves of Noin-Ula (Mongolian: Noyon uulyn bulsh) in northern Mongolia, and is strikingly similar to the Mongol Darkhad headdress of today. The fabric's colors, weaving methods, and embroidery are also similar to those found in fabric produced by Scythians in the Greek colonies on the Black Sea coast, leading scholars to draw links between these ancient cultures. (Scythian tribal areas were just west of Mongolian territories.)
 

According to historian and researcher Otgony Purev, shamans played an important role in diplomatic efforts and treaties with neighboring nations. The Hunnu emperors even constructed permanent shamanic shrines, and encouraged individual shamans to synthesize their diverse practices into a national religion. "Shamanist religion" then became part of the organizational basis of governmental and military activity.
 

Shamanism became the main source of education and ideology for the earliest pre-Mongol states. This continued for nearly 400 years, and ties to education remain influential in the Mongolian shamanic revival even today. With the disintegration of the Hunnu Dynasty, institutionalized shamanism returned to its more natural, individualistic and autonomous forms across a series of disparate Inner Asian kingdoms that spanned a millennium.

What Psychedelic Therapy Can Learn From Shamanism

Psychedelic psychotherapy is the process of taking a psychedelic substance within a therapeutic setting, which typically includes psychotherapy. In clinical studies, psilocybin (magic mushrooms) and MDMA are two compounds that are being investigated for their therapeutic use in treating certain mental health conditions, like depression and PTSD, and improve overall mental health. Most of the psychedelic therapy taking place is within clinical research studies in the underground and in places where psychedelics are legal.
 

Psychedelic therapy is widely discussed as an innovative development within psychiatry, yet the ironic truth is that mind-altering substances have been used to promote mental health for thousands of years. And while the ceremonial ingestion of plants like ayahuasca in South America, peyote in North America, and iboga in Africa may seem a far cry from Western psychotherapy, researchers are increasingly looking to indigenous cultures in order to learn how to utilize these potent medicines.
 

Anthropologists who study the ceremonial use of psychedelic plants often write about the skilled manner in which shamans guide their patients into "managed altered states of consciousness." Through the manipulation of sounds, symbols, and other aesthetic elements in a ritual context, these traditional healers are able to steer participants' visions and hallucinations in certain desirable directions. Overall, the ritual context provides a controlled, supportive, and safe environment for participants to engage in reflective emotional work that is often difficult.
 

A recent study of Westerners attending a mental health retreat run by indigenous ayahuasca healers found that 36 percent rated the actions of these shamans as the single most important factor in the improvement of their well-being. The non-indigenous users attributed the benefits of ayahuasca to their immersion in the traditional aspects of the ayahuasca experience, which were often intense or difficult to endure, echoing the ascetic experiences of the traditional users. Research indicates that the beneficial elements of ayahuasca are enhanced when the cultural and spiritual aspects of its use are emphasized. And while shamanic rituals may not be fully appreciated by conventional psychiatrists, it is widely agreed that psychedelic experiences are the product of more than just mere pharmacology.
 

Set and Setting
 

Back in the 1960s, famed psychologist and LSD evangelist Timothy Leary helped to popularize the notion of "set and setting", which holds that the effects of psychedelics are largely determined by the mindset of the user as well as the environment in which they are taken, rather than the properties of the substances themselves. "Set" refers to the expectations and intentions the person brings to the experience, and "setting" is the outward circumstances in which it takes place. Additionally, the expectations and experiences of participants in a traditional ceremonial setting are often influenced by the shamans' shaping of those aspects.
 

For this reason, set and setting has been incorporated into recent psychedelic trials. Typically, this is achieved by manipulating the therapeutic environment with low lighting and carefully selected music playlists. This last element is considered to be of particular importance, as research has revealed that music amplifies the capacity of psychedelics to enhance activity within the parts of the brain that process emotion.
 

A Clash of Worldviews
 

Indigenous people view creation as a living process, resulting in a living universe in which a kinship exists between all things. There is no such thing as an individual in the same way that we take for granted in the west. There is no separateness. We are all one consciousness. It's a different way of looking at things. For those of us who have been raised as staunch materialists, such a concept can be difficult to understand, let alone accept. We are conditioned to see the world as populated by distinct, independent entities that can be methodically isolated from one another, whereas indigenous cultures view the universe as one unified conscious system, in which everything is connected to everything else.
 

In line with this perspective, mental health problems are understood not as the product of faulty brain chemistry or personal psychological quirks, but as a symptom of misalignment with the encompassing whole. Healing, therefore, is typically a collective affair and is achieved by restoring the patient's sense of connectedness to their community and wider environment.
 

While most research into the efficacy of psychedelics to treat mental health disorders continues to focus on individual treatments, a number of studies are beginning to recognize the importance of contextual factors like the shared togetherness of indigenous group rituals. A global study of people who have used psychedelics in group settings found that group bonding during ceremony was significantly correlated with increases in psychological well-being, social connectedness, and other salient mental health outcomes.
 

Conclusion
 

While researchers have demonstrated the benefits of psychedelics as a treatment for mental illness in Western users, the traditional context associated with the use of psychedelic plants is also an essential aspect of the experience. Like indigenous users who emphasize the ascetic aspects of the psychedelic experiences, the immersion in an intense, often challenging ceremony leads to benefits for Western users who understand the necessity of these difficult experiences in reaping benefits. Overall, the traditional ceremony accounts for important aspects of the psychedelic experience such as social and environmental connections. Adapting indigenous approaches to psychedelics may well be the key to psychedelic healing. 

Mummified Shaman Discovered in Siberia

An almost perfectly preserved shaman burial site dating back to the 18th century has been discovered in remote Siberia. In only the second-ever archaeological study in the Yakutia area of Siberia, Russian researchers at the Institute for Humanitarian Research and North Indigenous Peoples Problems discovered the mummified remains of a fully-clothed man inside a sarcophagus.
 

Shamans are spiritual leaders among the Yakut, practicing as healers and diviners in their communities. Yakutia, the Yakut homeland, is hugely remote, situated in the far northeast of what is now Russia. When Russia occupied Yakutia in the 17th century, Orthodox Christianity began to influence the folk religion. However, during Soviet rule, shamans and their followers were persecuted. The religion didn't die out, though, and continued to be practiced in secret.
 

The burial lay at a depth of around 2.5 feet, and the sarcophagus was made of wide planks and covered with birch bark. The mummified body of a man was wearing a suit consisting of a caftan, a silk shirt, cuffs and legs. The shaman's legs were of particular interest, as they were covered with fabric that was embroidered with colored threads and a patchwork of leathers from hips to ankles. The shaman also wore a pair of leggings, a caftan, a belt, and was accompanied by a saddle, girth straps with iron buckles, stirrups, two bags and a funeral feast.
 

The shaman and its burial site are in remarkably good condition considering it has been buried for over 200 years. This is a truly unique find, because due to climate change, the preservation of items from archaeological excavations is getting worse every year, and the search for funerary monuments is gradually becoming more difficult due to dynamic changes in the landscape.

Let's Stand Again With Standing Rock

It's time to take action and stop the Dakota Access pipeline (DAPL)! It's been over six years since DAPL began carrying oil and nearly a year and a half since the U.S. Supreme Court rejected the pipeline operator Energy Transfer's attempt to avoid producing a required Environmental Impact Statement (EIS). Today, in violation of a separate court order, DAPL continues to operate illegally, without a federal easement. Finally, after interminable delay, the U.S. Army Corps of Engineers has finally released an extremely problematic draft EIS for public input.
 

That's where you come in. You now have just a few weeks to submit your public comment demanding the Corps shut this pipeline down and require a new, valid EIS. Please stand with Standing Rock in this critical moment and write to the Army Corps right now.
 

Now that the EIS has been released, we can confirm what we already suspected. Prepared by a member of the American Petroleum Institute -- clear conflict of interest -- the EIS addresses none of Standing Rock's many grave concerns about DAPL. Those include DAPL's imminent threat to the Missouri River, big problems with Energy Transfer's emergency response plans, Energy Transfer's horrendous safety track record, continued lack of transparency with Standing Rock throughout the environmental review process, inaccurate characterizations of tribal consultation, and sensitive habitat and sacred burial sites along the riverbank.
 

Earlier this year, four U.S. senators including Bernie Sanders submitted a letter to the Corps seeking an explanation. The reply from Assistant Secretary of the Army for Civil Works Michael Connor did not adequately or honestly address the tribe's complaints. Standing Rock replied, pointing out the flaws in approach and demanding redress.
 

For now, it's up to us to lend a hand. We must flood the Army Corps with a single, unified message: This illegal pipeline's operations must be terminated and the Army Corps must start over with a legitimate environmental review. In the midst of a climate emergency, let's defend sacred ground and safeguard Unci Maka (our Grandmother Earth). This may be our last, best chance to end DAPL once and for all. Please take action now.

Photographing Xhosa Shamans in South Africa

Shaman healers who practice traditional medicine and worship the ancestors are influential figures in South African communities. Traditional healers fulfill different social and political roles in the community, including divination, healing physical, emotional and spiritual illnesses, directing birth or death rituals, finding lost cattle, protecting warriors, counteracting witchcraft, and narrating the history, cosmology, and concepts of their tradition. But what fascinated Italian photographer Tommaso Fiscaletti wasn't their power, but the contrast between that and their everyday lives.

Fiscaletti has been based in Cape Town for the past two and a half years, and first set foot in the small township of Dunoon, in the west of the city, when he was introduced to the urban weavers who live there.
 

The women invited him to come to learn about their designs, but Fiscaletti was struck by the duality of the spiritual and the domestic that shape their lives.
 

He had soon embarked upon a six-month project photographing them, taking shots he's titled Between Home and Wisdom.
 

"On the one hand, they are leading figures for the community and the family and on the other, they're devoted to the cult of the ancestors and spend a lot of time alone," Fiscaletti says.
 

"What attracted me the most was the energy of these women in everyday life, in the context of the township where nature seems to have changed its shape, and life and death seem to have a different feeling to normal reality."
 

Through a combination of staged, cinematic portraits where dramatic lighting illuminates the women in their dark surroundings, and photographs taken against neutral backgrounds, Fiscaletti frames the strong characters of his subjects, focusing on them rather than their social conditions.
 

"My vision, and my approach to the image, has been conditioned by the love for the cinema," he says. See more of Tomasso's work here.

An Indigenous Perspective on Climate Change

Greenland, also known as Kallaalit Nunaat by the local Inuit peoples, is the "Ground Zero" of climate change. Its geographic location and expansive ice sheets make it extremely vulnerable to climate change, resulting in disproportionate impacts for those who live there. Greenland's population is extremely dispersed, with a majority being Inuit, who live in communities organized around subsistence hunting. Using dog sleds and boats resembling kayaks, the Inuit hunt seals, walrus, narwhal, polar bears and other Arctic animals.
 

In general, the lifestyle of the Inuit communities paired with the environmental conditions of Greenland create a multi-layered vulnerability to climate change. Rising sea levels increase coastal erosion, while melting ice inhibits travel, hunting and other subsistence activities. The mixture of snow and thinner ice makes traditional travel paths extremely unreliable for dog sleds and snowmobiles, increasing isolation and immobility. Increasingly, Inuit are being forced to seek modernized work opportunities, driven out of generational hunting traditions due to climate change and the resulting economic insecurity. This has had devastating impacts on Inuit communities, particularly young men who can no longer partake in traditional hunting.
 

The spiritual significance of climate change

Inuit shaman Angaangaq Angakkorsuaq speaks about the spiritual significance of climate change at international conferences around the world. Angaangaq is a traditional healer, storyteller and carrier of the Qilaut (wind drum), whose  family belongs to the traditional healers of the Far North from Greenland. His name means 'The Man Who Looks Like His Uncle'. Since he was a child he was trained by his family--especially by his Grandmother Aanakasaa--for becoming a shaman. The spiritual task given by his mother is: "Melting the Ice in the Heart of Man."

 

Angaangaq bridges the boundaries of cultures and faiths in people young and old. His work has taken him to over 70 countries around the world. He conducts circles, seminars and Aalaartiviit--traditional sweat lodges. His teachings are deeply rooted in the wisdom of the oral healing traditions of his people, which enabled people over thousands of years to survive in one of the harshest places on Earth.
 

In an interview with LifeGate, Angaangaq shared an Indigenous perspective on climate change. Everyone talks about climate change but nobody talks about its spiritual significance. "According to the old people, a third of the population on Earth will vanish," says Angaangaq, "they say many people will die, some will barely survive, and few will have a life." His message is very powerful as it is not just about Mother Earth, who is ever-changing, it is about human lives--and we have never been so many.
 

"The ice is a living thing, you can see it in my grandmother's village. In the summer it breaks and explodes and when water gushes out you can't hear anything but that. Sometimes when there's a storm the waves are so strong that they can spew chunks of ice several kilometres away. Ice that weighs a ton," he says. The difference now is not only in our numbers but in what we have done to the Earth: "We've raped Mother Earth, taken all her resources and we're still doing it without considering the impact it can have on our personal life."
 

Angaangaq also believes that while we often talk about animals as inferior creatures we don't realize that they have a much greater capacity of adaption than us. For example, we can only live in a temperature range of 100 degrees Celsius, whereas that range is as high as 200 degrees for polar bears. "We can't adapt to hot weather, they can. Isn't that so interesting?" Angaangaq ponders.
 

Becoming the hope
 

"The changes are so bad that we can no longer save the world, we can no longer stop the melting of the big ice," confides Angaangaq. "The only thing I can think of now is to somehow find the strength and capacity within myself to become the hope. Not because I'm better than anyone else but because as a grandfather I hope that my grandchildren will have a life worth enjoying, with beauty everywhere, where you kill animals without forgetting to say thank you, where you grow what you eat, and I want to find other people willing to change their lives to be that hope."
 

"Right now the government doesn't talk about this, nor do the activists. You're just one name out of several billion but, really, you have a beautiful spirit and you're worth knowing and doing something for! The land will sink, this is a fact, what will they do with you when the ocean comes? As my father used to say, we know so much but comprehend so little."
 

The melting of the Arctic ice sheets is a call for us to reflect on the spiritual significance of climate change and our way of living. It's time to look with eyes of faith into our future and believe we can make a difference. If we have hope, there is potential for extraordinary change--things will survive. The Indigenous elders teach us if we return to harmony in our lives, melting the ice in our hearts, reconnecting with one another, we will survive. It is time to use this knowledge to help mankind.

The Pueblo Jewelers of the Southwest

In the world of Pueblo artisans, the jewelry makers are second in number to the pottery makers. Over the generations, this ancient craft has taken on numerous forms. On the meticulous end of the spectrum, there are those who make tiny beads, called heishi, first produced at today's Santo Domingo (Kewa) Pueblo in prehistoric times, with hand-pump drills and stone drill bits, and then strung as necklaces. From there, Pueblo jewelry runs from semi-precious stones set in silver to contemporary works, made with gold and precious gemstones. In between are tufa-castings (a process using a carved volcanic stone as a mold for molten silver or gold); hammered metal; handmade silver beads; choruses of tiny bird effigies carved from stone and strung; classic concho belts; large seashells covered in mosaic stonework; and some of the most prized lapidary work in the world, famously done by Zuni Pueblo artists. There are works in stainless steel cut to a fine edge, "shadow boxes" (where a design is cut out of a sheet of burnished silver, which is then affixed to an underlying piece of blackened silver, thereby creating an image in negative space), as well as bracelets, rings, bolo ties, and belt buckles, all worn today by design-savvy buyers from around the world.
 

Steve LaRance, of Hopi and Assiniboine heritage, gets his tufa on the Hopi Reservation from deposits created by the San Francisco Peaks. To gather what he needs, he has to drive a four-wheel drive pickup, find an isolated spot, and spend a day digging with shovels and picks. The tufa comes out in chunks, in sizes that range from bowling ball to suitcase. This will generally provide enough raw material for a year's work.
 

Steve and his wife and jewelry-making partner, Marian Denipah, moved from Arizona some years back to Marian's homelands, just a stone's throw from the lazy Rio Grande on Ohkay Owingeh land in northern New Mexico. In addition to their various lines of jewelry, they have also produced a batch of children and grandchildren that have made marks of their own. One daughter is a physician; another, along with her brother, spent a decade as principal dancers for Cirque du Soleil. Today, Steve and Marian oversee a Native youth dance troupe called the Lightning Boy Foundation, which travels the world in an effort to spread Pueblo values and skills.

 

Santo Domingo is one of the Rio Grande Pueblos in Northern New Mexico. For centuries the Pueblo people have been mining turquoise at Cerrillos, south of what is now Santa Fe, and have been acquiring other turquoise from as far away as Nevada, California and Colorado.

The Pueblo jewelers traveled south to the Gulf and west to the Pacific for shell when they couldn't trade for it. Jet and red colored rock was found nearby and used in mosaics and other jewelry. Eventually coral was introduced by the Spanish and replaced the red rock. These colorful stones were made into beads and mosaics for decoration and ceremonies.

The people of Santo Domingo became known for making the best disc beads and, along with the Zuni people, for producing the best inlay in turquoise, jet, shell and coral on shell and wood bases. The jewelers of Santo Domingo still produce the finest handmade beads and mosaics. Many of their children acquire drills and learn to make beads at a very young age. You can shop online for authentic Pueblo jewelry at PuebloDirect.com.

The Pueblo Potters of the Southwest

Pottery, the most sought after Pueblo art today, is being made by thousands of Native clay artists, many of whom still dig, clean, and age their own clay, as well as hand-shape and coil-build pottery without the use of a potter's wheel. Potters then decorate their works with mineral and clay slips they prepare themselves, or by carving into the clay. Finally, they fire their clay outdoors in the open air, rather than in a kiln.
 

This is the age-old process used by Jody Naranjo, one of the most well-known contemporary Pueblo potters. Naranjo grew up at Santa Clara Pueblo, but moved to Albuquerque years ago to pursue a career in professional art. She still returns to the Pueblo for ceremonies and to fire her distinctive pottery. Naranjo's work is distinguished by intricately etched surfaces, portraying everything from fine geometric patterns to quaint scenes of people and Pueblo life, as well as a variety of animals, birds, and fish.
 

Naranjo consciously carries on ancient traditional techniques. In her pottery, which is always unglazed, Naranjo aims for a natural color that she describes as "rich chocolate brown." To get that tone, she encloses the pots in thin sheets of metal before firing the pottery on a brick. "Some people even use old metal cafeteria trays, or put the work inside metal milk crates," she says. Then she surrounds her pots with chunks of cedar, and sets the whole thing afire. "It burns hot and fast," she notes.
 

Most modern pottery is made from very different clay that requires overnight firings in intensely hot gas or electric kilns, but Naranjo's firings take no more than 30 to 45 minutes. "I have no idea of the temperature, because we don't use thermometers, but I've learned to judge the heat by observation," she says. About 5 to 10 minutes before the pots are done, she covers them with cow manure, which has been dried until it's fluffy.
 

"Some people use shredded newspaper," she says, "some horsehair." The manure blanket blocks the fire's source of oxygen, a step that darkens the pots. If she lets this stage go too far, the pots turn black, a distinct style in itself that some buyers prefer. If the goal is to retain the natural reds in the clay that Pueblo potters traditionally use, this step is skipped entirely, but if you're aiming for some combination -- for example, swirls of black on a red pot -- Naranjo says, "you put a whole cow pie against the pot."
 

The process, however, is not foolproof. Because these firings are done outdoors over a wood fire, without the controlled conditions inside a kiln, wind and humidity levels can create havoc, causing the pottery to crack or explode. To avoid such catastrophes, Naranjo tries to fire in either the mornings or evenings, which are the calmest times of day in her area. But even that's not always enough. "I've often waited a week or more to fire," she says. "It's so tricky. All your work can be gone in a minute!" While studying her craft, Naranjo says, she had her grandmother "giving me advice at every step. Still, I've made mistakes and heard the pots exploding in the fire. Then I just cry."

The World is Running Out of Water

The world is "running out of water," Makasa Looking Horse says, and if we don't take action soon, it will be too late. Looking Horse, from Six Nations of the Grand River in Ontario, is one of the hosts of the Ohneganos Ohnegahdę:gyo -- Let's Talk about Water podcast, which won a 2021 David Suzuki Foundation Future Ground Prize. The prize recognizes youth-led movements. It's a podcast created, the Suzuki Foundation says, to "engage Indigenous communities and disseminate research findings by facilitating meaningful discussion about water issues and climate change."
 

Looking Horse points to Aberfoyle, Ontario, where BlueTriton Brands, Inc., an American beverage company based in Connecticut, has permits to take 3.6 million litres of water a day out of an aquifer there. BlueTriton is the new name of the giant corporation better known as Nestlé Waters North America. The name was changed to BlueTriton Brands in 2021.
 

She says "they're making millions off our water and selling it. And the thing about aquifer waters that it takes 6,000 to 10,000 years for that water to filter through the ground. We'll never see that water within our lifetime again and that's why it's so important that we stop water extraction."
 

BlueTriton says, in a report from November 2021, that it has conducted "extensive testing and studies over the years to ensure that their operations do not diminish the availability of water for other users or the environment." The company says "permit conditions require BlueTriton to monitor the natural and pumping-related variations in groundwater and surface water levels." The permit was renewed by the Ontario government in 2021 and runs until November 2026.
 

Looking Horse's commitment to protecting water was passed down from her parents. Her mother is Dawn Martin-Hill, one of the founders of the Indigenous studies program at McMaster University and the winner of the University of Oklahoma's International Water Prize, for her commitment to improving water security for the people of the Six Nations of the Grand River. 

 

Her father is Chief Arvol Looking Horse, 19th Keeper of the Sacred White Buffalo Calf Pipe. He was given the responsibility at age 12, the youngest keeper in history. Looking Horse  says her path into activism and water sovereignty didn't happen overnight. It was a long and encompassing journey full of passion for earth, prayer for water and everything on earth.
 

Similar to Looking Horse, the United Nations (UN) also has concerns about how much water humans can access. According to a UN report, by 2025 1.8 billion people will be living in countries or regions with absolute water scarcity, and two thirds of the world's population could be living under "water stressed conditions."
 

In June of 2019, Looking Horse hand delivered a cease and desist letter from the Haudenosaunee Confederacy Chiefs Council to Nestlé Waters in Aberfoyle. In 2021, the council sent another letter to BlueTriton, after the company changed its name, saying "the majority of our people at Six Nations do not have access to clean drinking water... we declare your activities to remove [aquifer] waters under our territories unpermitted and demand that you cease your activity immediately."
 

The fight for water sovereignty and for clean drinking water continues for Looking Horse. "The urgency worldwide is huge because the world is running out of water. This is only one example of exploitative extraction by a big corporation. This doesn't include all of the pollution and micro plastics that are living in waterways and systems across the globe," she said.
 

"I've been praying for water and working with water for a very long time, and that's where it started," she said. "You start to learn how valuable water is on a spiritual level, but also on a statistic level. The world is really in a water crisis. So, it's in our culture to protect the water and have a responsibility."

Traditional Water Drums

Water drums are a category of membranophone characterized by the filling of the drum chamber with some water to create a unique resonant sound. The presence of the water within gives the sound far greater carrying power than a dry drum possesses. At close range, the tone of the water drum is often a dull thud, but when properly tuned by an experienced drummer it has a resonance that can be heard for miles. No drum can be heard so far; it is on record that water drums have been heard eight to ten miles over a lake. This capacity to be heard distinctly at a distance, coupled with a peculiar tone quality, gives the water drum a very unique voice.

Water drums are used all over the world, including African music and American Indian music, and are made of various materials, with a membrane stretched over a hard body such as a metal, clay or wood. The Native American Church uses a black iron kettle with three tripod legs. The leather drum head is soaked in water before being stretched over the kettle. Clay pot drums were common among many eastern and southern tribes in the ancient days, those of the South using a semicircular-shaped bowl with legs. The pottery water drum of the Pueblo Indians is a vase-shaped pot with a flared out top. Pueblo water drums vary in size from small pots holding a gallon of water up to huge ones measuring thirty or more inches in diameter. These are filled about one-fourth full of water and the wet hide is tied over the top. When not in use the tanned drumhead and rawhide thong for tying it are kept inside the pot.  

Wooden water drums are the traditional percussion instrument for the Native American Anishinaabe (Ojibwe), Ottawa, Potawatomi, Huron and Iroquois peoples. The Eastern Woodland tribes made far greater use of water drums than any other Native peoples, and attached a greater significance to them. To the Anishinaabe and their many neighboring tribes, the water drum is a true medicine drum of great power, the sacred drum of the Midewiwin or Grand Medicine Society, which is at the core of Anishinaabe religion. Water is synonymous with life, hence it adds great potency to the water drum. Its sacred sound is regarded as one of the most effective ways of establishing connections with the spirit realm, since it travels through space, permeates visual and physical barriers, and conveys information from the unseen world. It is widely used today in traditional Longhouse social dances and ceremonies.

Wooden water drums are made either by hollowing out a solid section of a small soft wood log, or assembled using cedar slats and banded much like an old keg. The drum is filled about one-fourth full of water and a wet leather hide is stretched over the top. For detailed instructions on crafting, tuning and playing water drums, download the free eBook, How to Make Drums, Tomtoms, and Rattles by Bernard S. Mason. This classic 1938 edition is now a free public domain eBook.