Indian Trading Post

Saturday, after seeing my daughter off to work, I decided to take a drive west on Route 66. I went as far as Geary, OK, which is only around 40 miles west of OKC, but it was evening and I wanted to see the sunset from closer up. I noticed I was in Seminole/Cherokee territory. I took I-40 back to OKC, which has a couple of Indian Trading Posts at each of its highway exits so I decided to get out and take a look around before returning to the city. My happy hunting grounds turned out to be an antique store/art gallery/trading post with lots of interesting items and artifacts.

The first trading post had a KOA camp with bronze painted buffalo outside. Inside, I spoke to one of the shopkeepers and he said the trading post had been there since the 1950's. It had first started at the owner's home, where they would hang hand-woven rugs on their clothesline and set hand woven baskets and arts and crafts out in their yard since their home was on Route 66. Once they began building their business and the interstate was built, they decided to open their store where it is now, not far from their beginning. The owner and his wife have died, but their daughter still operates the store. The store still carries buffalo and cow hides, hand woven rugs and baskets, and hand beaded moccasins of all sizes, as well as some handmade jewelry, pottery, and kachina dolls.

Up the street from the first trading post, I found the second one (photos above). The shopkeeper was laughing that the man who had just bought a large piece of furniture didn't believe she could help him load it on his truck. She showed him she had no problem with the chore. Time was running out, since the sun was about to set, so I didn't get to explore for long.

One artifact was the Native American statue, which I remember seeing when I was a kid traveling with my parents. He was also saluting the sunset and much closer to the sun than me, being three stories high. I found a large gourd that was perfect to use with a wreath of fall leaves I made.

The weather was perfect, not as windy as it has been. The trip was a nice get-away with many wildflowers and wildlife to see on the way, as well as a view of Fort Reno with its history on the prarie. I hope to take a trip to the Alabaster Caverns and to "No Man's Land" in the panhandle sometime before summer gets here, although I hope to keep going west into New Mexico and visit the Santa Fe area.

Dumpster Diving is an Art

While driving in Edmond I happened to pass a business on one of the side streets downtown. Outside the business, between streets, a dumpster was near the road and a large framed art print was leaning against the dumpster. Someone had put it out as trash, but maybe had a second thought before throwing it into the dumpster. My daughter said, "Stop, there's an American Indian painting!" So we stopped and she got out and brought it to the car. It appeared to have been in storage and was covered with dust and dirt, but not harmed at all. The colors and detail are much more beautiful than the photo can represent (above).

Once we brought the picture home, I was amazed that when the metal frame and glass were easily cleaned it revealed a lithograph of a limited edition poster, #42, signed by a Southwestern artist, Amado Maurilio Peña, Jr. I did some research on the picture and the artist and discovered that it was made in 1987 (which would explain the dust and cobwebs), and that the black pottery and black night sky had a special significance.

The painting, titled San Ildefonso, also happens to be a location near Santa Fe, New Mexico. The town is famous for its development of black-on-black pottery which was first started in San Ildefonso by Maria Martinez and her husband. Together they collected clay from the Black Mesa which is not far from the town and began to work the clay in black-on-black Pueblo designs.

The town of San Ildefonso was an agriculturally based economy until the late 20th century when Maria Martinez and her husband Julian rediscovered how to make the black-on-black pottery such as is seen in the artwork of the ancient Greeks. Since the development of the Martinez's pottery, the Pueblo area has become more of a tourist area with tourist shops and fine works of art.

The artist, Amado Maurilio Peña, Jr., works from inspiration by places such as San Ildefonso as a tribute to the Native Americans and their environment, from which he is also a descendant. I was so happy to be able to reclaim this treasure and give it a place of honor in our home.

An example of the pottery in the lithograph:

The Black Mesa:



Amado Maurilio Peña, Jr.

Magic Carpets and Singing Bowls

This is it, the "magic carpet" I saw in Tulsa in February. I was back in Tulsa on Thursday for an appointment with my doctor. Afterward, I stopped again at the Persian Rug shop on Cherry Street. I stopped to park at a meter without realizing that I happened to park right in front of their shop. Inside the shop, the carpet was still in its place and still out of reach - hanging high above a doorway, as well as high in price - but the shop owner welcomed us back and let me take a picture. It's gorgeous, exceptional, authentic and full of mystique.

Stumbling into unexpected out of the way places is one of my favorite things, especially when it happens more than once! The owner said he'd make me a great deal on the carpet, so I may have to take it home with me one day. But for now, I am happy with the mystery.

Next, we made our way to Peace of Mind bookstore where I found a 1929 Edition of the Archko Volume for less than $10, which I did bring home. Downstairs in the shop below the bookstore we found Tibetan singing bowls. We tried some of them out in the store and they sound incredible. The bowls are used to raise a vibration sound that resonates throughout the room. The acoustics in the old building with high ceilings made it even better. My daughter found an antique singing bowl and bought it so we can use it at home. I'm still working on getting the sound without the vibes getting too strong which makes the wooden striker bounce off the side. Takes practice.



They also have the singing bowls that can charge water like the one shown here:



The Carpet Market:

Haitian Oil Drum Art

Recently, while at Full-Circle Book Store in OKC, I ventured to see what life might be left in 50 Penn Place. The fountain had been shut off for the day, or maybe longer with so many of the stores closing and property leased to technical schools. The escalators were still running so I went upstairs to find Route 66, an upscale clothing store with eclectic art, to see how they were surviving.

Luckily, they were still open. After talking with the owner, I noticed a wall hanging 48" in diameter of "The Tree of Life" which was made in Haiti from a recycled steel oil drum (photo above). It was a beautiful demonstration of artwork, resourcefulness and determination of the human spirit to survive in Haiti. I personally enjoy working with metal, listening to metal and also looking at metal. It is inspiring to see a work of art recycled from environmental waste and reclaimed. They (the people and their art) are truly amazing.

Checkin out...

The morning I was checking out of the hospital after my surgery in February, my daughter was taking a picture out of the window of my room. I asked her what she was looking at and she said "the labyrinth, didn't you see it?" I didn't walk close enough to the window before that to see the view below where I stayed. I was glad I didn't miss it, one of my favorite themes! As we were leaving, I said I felt good enough to walk out on my own, without the use of a wheel chair, so the nurse insisted on accompanying me. I said that was good, because it is not easy to find my way out of a hospital, much like walking through a maze. A maze is different than a labyrinth, designed with a different purpose in mind.

At Full-Circle Book Store, I also came across a book on the subject of labyrinths written by three local authors. "Oklahoma Labyrinths - a path to inner peace," by Gail Peck, Linda Yeingst and Phyllis Pennington covers information about labyrinths in Oklahoma, some of the history behind labyrinths and the spiritual and cultural aspects of a labyrinth. It even includes a photo of the labyrinth I saw from my window. Looks very interesting!

(Picture my daughter took of the view of the Labyrinth from my room)

I Like to Dream, yeah....

I just had one of my wishes answered, to see a friend I had known many years ago. We had a close relationship for a short time when I was fifteen years old, but since he was eighteen at the time, my family didn't approve and we stopped seeing each other. He was Native American Indian, Cherokee, and he had been adopted by a family after he was "found abandoned in the forest" literally, as a baby. I met him the first time when I went with his brother and his family to church. His brother and I were friends, went to school together and we were both born on the same day in the same year at the same hospital!

My friend's brother, John, who had been adopted, also looked like John Kay (above), the lead singer of Steppenwolf. My friend John and I were both troubled teens, and he had a protective, big brother sense about him. He would walk miles to my house to see me, even with an injured leg. He was also very wild, did a lot of crazy things that got him into trouble sometimes, but was a very kind, honest and thoughtful person. My aunt who I lived with at the time was not favorable about my interest in him and wouldn't allow me to keep seeing him, so we eventually stopped seeing each other. Since then, I wondered about him from time to time and how he was doing. I remember the last time John and I were at my mother's house together, we heard the news on the television that Jim Morrison had just died.

John was on my mind recently again, because during a recent trip to Tulsa I saw an interesting Persian rug shop on my way back from a bookstore on Cherry Street. My daughter and I thought we might find a "magic carpet" there so we stopped inside. After looking around we saw a carpet hanging above a doorway in the back of the store that was an antique rug with beautiful designs. I asked about the price and it was around $2,200! It was a small and valuable antique, but it also seemed like the magic carpet we were hoping to find. I wish I had taken a picture, but the store owner seemed very protective, his arms folded like Aladin as if to keep us from getting too close.

After we left, I was thinking of the song by Steppenwolf, "Magic Carpet Ride," so my friend John came to mind again and because we were driving through so many different Native American territories along the way home. Also, since I had searched for Native American Indian moccasins for my friend's baby shower recently, and making friends with a couple of shop owners I met who are Cherokee and Osage.

Then, this weekend I was at a friend's house with a gathering of people I have known for many years. One couple I have seen within the group of friends, but I hadn't gotten to know them personally. The husband, Gary, started to share with the group that his brother was having serious health problems, and as he started to describe a dream he had about his brother, that his brother was adopted and was a full-blood Native American Indian, John immediately came to my mind. Of course, I also thought that would be impossible. As I listened to him begin to describe his brother's condition, I said, excuse me Gary, what is your brother's name? He told me, and it was my friend John! I shouted, "NO WAY!!" He asked, "Why, do you know him?" We started talking after that and Gary was John's older brother who I hadn't met because he was ten years older than John and was not living at home when I knew his family.

John had some serious health issues recently and almost died of liver failure two times. He also broke his previously injured leg (he stepped into a hole at a party and fell) and it became infected and his leg had to be amputated just below the knee. His brother and wife were happy to get me in touch with John and he contacted me for a visit. I got to see him today and it was so great to find out that although it has been many years, except for his health problems, he is still exactly the same! Another bizarre twist to the story is that his roommate that he is helping, a biker with a Harley, was a drummer for Steppenwolf! He is going to be playing with a band in a concert later this month and John invited me to go.

Time out

Dear creative writers,

I just wanted to say I haven't been able to post or comment lately due to a surgery I had a week ago on Monday. Fortunately, everything went really well. One of my biggest concerns was being too cold in the hospital, but everyone kept asking me if I wanted a warm blanket, so I always said yes. They kept piling them on me and I didn't even need to ask for one.

When I got out of surgery and woke up in the recovery area, I had to wait a couple of hours for a room to be ready to stay over night. I felt really good compared to the other patients around me who were moaning and in various degrees of pain. When the nurse went to let my sister know why it would be a while before I got a room, I asked if she could bring back my book and glasses so I could read "Bird by Bird" while i waited. My sister and daughter were shocked that I was feeling well enough already to want to read! I opened the book and started reading in the recovery room, beginning randomly at the pages on "the shitty first draft," which reminded me of our last short story reviews in class, ha. I also realized I had a new insight on how a "shitty first draft" might feel, although that was soon after my own hospital meds wore off.