guitar & visit
Kiidk’yaas: The Council of the Haida Nation has a number of animated old stories, including that of the Golden Spruce, on it’s website: http://www.haidanation.ca/Pages/Haida_Legends/Golden_Spruce.html
I’m thinking about Kiid K’yaas because of it’s long river of life, from boy to golden spruce, to both a mask and the face of a guitar. A guitar not called Unity: collisions of cultures, values, humanity, rewoven into an instrument that can be played in any style, supportive of any song. http://www.sixstringnation.com/en/guitar_explorer/sixstring.html
When i was a girl, my dad hammered nails into the livingroom wall, and hung his guitars up above the sticky fingers of the smallest of the family, well within reach of the teens and tweens and adults. Not long after we relocated back to Manitoba– the family had been struck by lightning, and half the tree fell away– my auntie had a dream that she told to me. She was in the barn (they had a big barn) and it was calving season. In place of the cows, the barn was full of women, each one attached to the wall. my auntie ran from woman to woman, trying to catch all those babies as they fell. Soon after, my dad bought a small house, a log cabin covered with clapboard, and first thing, my sister and i scrubbed the tired old floor, auntie telling us, “This is your job, now.” Then dad went round with his hammer and nails, and the guitars were hung on the walls again.
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