Wandering with grief, and no water source

"Grief is the response to loss, particularly to the loss of someone or something that has died, to which a bond or affection was formed. Although conventionally focused on the emotional response to loss, it also has physical, cognitive, behavioral, social, cultural, spiritual and philosophical dimensions. While the terms are often used interchangeably, bereavement refers to the state of loss, and grief is the reaction to that loss."

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Photography series, "Portrait of a Grieving Desert Artist I"
Venaya J. Yazzie, 2020
ALL RIGHTS RESERVED

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Photography series, "Portrait of a Grieving Desert Artist II"
Venaya J. Yazzie, 2020
ALL RIGHTS RESERVED

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Living life after the loss of "mom" Jane is like wandering upon the hallways of desert lands with no water source.

Five months have passed since her last moment on this earth - and it feels as though my heart passed on and also left.  I am still numb from her abrupt departure.  I am, I feel now a true wanderer- trekking through the vertical blue hues of northwestern New Mexico skies.

I feel lost everyday now.  I now find my shadow lingering on the edge of sandstone mesas, while I work to navigate through the emptiness of horizontal eastern Dine' sage lands.

The memory of Shima' (mother) is imprinted on the palms of my hands; but  I am losing the sound of her voice in my mind.  I miss her everyday, every minute. I long to hear her language, the language of love, of ancestor - empathy - the kind she spoke in our Mother Tongue, nihi zaad.  This emptiness is visceral, it continually tugs at my brown desert skin, and I try to push it away, but it never leaves and therefore lives in my air space.

I don't know what the hour will bring to my eastern front door, yet I am anxious to hear matriarch narrative, the kind she delivered and nestled into the softness of my heart.  The life I had before "mom" passed on was sacred.  The fact that she physically existed and lived in this world with me, along side me - was like living on a cloud from heaven.  Now that she is no longer here,  I just don't know what this life is about.  Everyday I wake and search for a memory of her, a time when we had shared happiness and loving laughter, a time of life when I knew there was a person who loved me, who truly adored me.

I long for the days when I can share dialogue with Shima' again.  That moment will ease the weight of pain and loneliness that I now carry on my back bone. I long to see her glittering face smiling upon my humbled being. I long to hear her shimmering voice, expressing love, love, love to my humanness.  I long to hold her hands again and hear her say to me, "Shi'ch'e'e ayoo iinishni, I love you daughter."

Until then I wait and walk on.  Each day I find myself among the sagebrush lands she loved to be among, and I touch the tips of the blue-green sage.

Moments that brings some comfort.

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                                        "Grief is so human, and it hits everyone at one

                                                point or another, at least, in their lives.

                                        If you love, you will grieve, and that is just given."

BLESSINGS in all Things,

Venaya Yazzie

New Mexico Artist

The memory of the art 'process' and the matriarch

Our family's female matriarchs are the leaders and thus the 'backbone' of our family units.  For the Navajo people/ tribe, she is: mother, grandmother, aunt, sister, cousin-sister, great-aunt and other female relatives.

This being, she is our whole world, one who bundles us up in her hands- protecting us from harm.  From her we find and experience the tangible nature of what 'home' is in her arms embracing us. From her we experience the agape kind of human love that heals us: mentally, spiritually and emotionally.  In my family, she as matriarch was a member of the generation born during the time of the Great Depression in American society, sometimes referred to as the Post-World War Cohort generation born in 1928-1945. She embodied all that I mentioned, and she is the reason for my work now as a cultural educator and practicing southwest female artist.

In recent dialogue with a good friend, a sister, from the eastern coast of the U.S., our conversation steered to how the Post War Cohort generation of people are passing on.  Individuals such as the late and respected civil rights leader John Lewis is one of those individuals who exemplified the counterpart of the matriarch, as a strong, smart patriarch.  The late Mr. Lewis and my grandmother, Jane shared that strong and resilient common attitude to, live in such a way that worked to make the community a better place. My grandmother was  a constant positive energy and her life choices were an expression of a blessed life. The people from this time are the patriarchs matriarchs our families; our great-grandparents. I simply bring up this topic because this era of America and the society was what my grandmother experienced.  She was born in 1930 in northwest New Mexico on the open land of the Navajo lands.  Her existence may not have been of  monumental importance in the society of America, but her presence was ground-breaking for my Navajo family. In her constant need to create and make cultural items and art, she instilled in me her matriarch ways.

As long I can recall, my grandmother was a "creative spirit." She was a seamstress and traditional weaver.  These two skills were embedded in her DNA, passed to her in the blood from her mother and all of her Navajo matriarchs who lived before her.  They were weavers of beautiful, grand rugs and they designed and created their own Navajo women's garments and attire.

Venaya's grandmothers

Such contributions to the clothing culture of the American southwest was adopted and sometimes acculturated by mainstream fashion.  My grandmother and great-Aunts were steadfast in their cultural clothing expression and in my opinion they were ground-breakers in that way.  I share this image above as a visual example of such fashion design and creation by my grandmother Jane (pictured on left) and her her adopted-sister.

The ways of my matriarch Jane were instilled in my spirit on the day of my birth.  As I grew into adult womanhood, we perpetuated such activities women in our culture.  The recognition of innate gifts given to the human is vital in keeping the richness of a people's cultural ways alive and 'living."  I do not mean that one should boast about their skills, but simply and humbly dialogue about the process of making such items and about how those items are necessary to keep life balanced.

My late grandmother and her completed rug

Growing up I was witness on a constant basis on the process of making art in the weaving that was happening in the homes of the above mentioned women of my family.  Family is very important to the Navajo dynamics of the home life. When a family loses a matriarch the loss is felt deeply.  The days, week, months and years after the death of a loved one is important to be acknowledged, for by doing so the healing is taking place.  I know this well as I am amidst such ways now.

Blessings and healing,

Venaya

Forever my muse

Art as Therapy for a spirit in grief

My late maternal grandmother, Jane Werito Yazzie
ALL RIGHTS RESERVED
Venaya J. Yazzie

Five months have passed since I lost my grandmother.  Everyday I wake up and begin the process of missing her again.  Every moment I experience now, I think about how she would have reacted to it.  I find myself planning my daily activities as if she was still physically present on earth.  My brain is confused and seems to be constantly trying to keep up with the ever-changing status of my spirit.  To be honest my heart is broken, I am broken.

I lived a full life with her with me.  She was always by my side. She was my rock, my muse.  Now that she has traveled on to the next world, I am here existing in what feels like a cloud.

My late maternal grandmother, Jane Werito Yazzie was my best friend. We were more than forty years apart in age yet we were similar in many ways.  We loved the same things in life, we talked the same, were amused by parallel things. Together, as grandmother and adopted grand-daughter, we faced the joys and challenges of Navajo life in the Four Corners community. "Mom" passed on from this life on earth to the next world in early February of this year and since then, my life has been a struggle.

As an artist I have sought out the possibility to get "inspired" again, but it has not been easy. In the last five months I found myself leaning on Art, but not being totally aware I was.  What I have found is that many of the avenues of art, including the 'process' of art are taken for granted.  I know that I am guilty of this too.

After this trauma of loss of a beloved matriarch, I realize that art should always be considered as a means of perpetuating the human / emotional, spiritual healing process.  I have wondered among the many online art galleries of global artists and I have created my own home gallery of artwork from Indigenous artists I have collected through the years.  What were my intentions of these activities? By doing these tangible things, did I think they would hopefully fill the emptiness and loneliness I was experiencing?  Today I am pondering these kind of questions, and am still asking myself.  What is my purpose as an artist?

In the five months since her passing, I have come to the realization that I have been able to work through my mourning of her.  This personal journey of healing has been initiated through all the months of the grieving process by unconsciously living the life of a multi-media artist.  I can truthfully express that art saved me, and that today art is healing my broken spirit! The concepts of art as therapy have worked as a spiritual source for me.  My awareness of art as a therapuetic act has allowed for me to find some balance again.  My work as a painter and multi-media artist has steered me be in my studio for several hours a day.  In that space of art tools and the art itself has brought me to a state of being that is tolerable and my creative flow of energy and thought is becoming clearer day by day. In my research of grief after the death of a loved one I have learned that it has 7 stages. They are fully emotional and include: shock (disbelief), deniel, bargaining, guilt, anger, depression and acceptance and hope.

So, where do I think I am existing within this paradigm of the human grieving process?

Well, I am consciously aware that I have accepted the death of my grandmother. I know though that there is now set time of when mourning and grief will end or can be cured.  I know that I carry hope now, that because of my belief of the spiritual existence of the Creator God, I believe I will see her again in the afterlife.

Art as therapy is a concept realized this week.  I see that the art-way is wholly ingrained within the Navajo material culture, but moreover, it is rooted in the Navajo Philosophy of 'Iina' - Life.  This was evident in my family through the women of my immediate and extended family, who in act existed as 'Creatives.' They lived lives of women artists.  This is a profound realization for me!  For example, my great grandmother who was born in 1907 was an avid weaver of traditional Navajo rugs and blankets. She was also an extraordinary seamstress.  My grandmother Jane also encompassed these traits and they both passed on this ways to me.  For that I know my life is blessed indeed!

My goal now is to continue doing my art in every aspect that I feel is relevant for me to continue healing my heart and spirit.  My grandmother  Jane gave me all of the goodness of her life, she was living a life with me in mind and now in adulthood I am living those ways through the Arts.  I know I will still have the bad days, the sad days and the grief will still linger, but as an artist I know that the one constant is my art.

I pray for blessings all around me. And too, I pray for blessings all around you.

Venaya

New Earring Designs - Navajo Ancestor

New earring design- Digital art
VENAYA YAZZIE 2020
All Rights Rerserved

My newest earring designs are a showcase of the young ancestors of my Dine' (Navajo) people.

View my new designs at my Square store site:

Yazzgrl Art Earring Designs

High Desert Matriarch: SW indigenous Femme Artists

High Desert Matriarch artists:
Eileen, Amy, Venaya, Colleen, Jihan and Monica

New Mexican artist, Venaya Yazzie

On February 13-19, 2020 a group of regional Indigenous artists and their art 'confluenced' at the border town of Flagstaff, Arizona in the north region of the state.

Included in among the art was my own art.

It was a blessing to be among other women with the 'Creative Way' of being.  And, I was very happy to have worked with a co-curator of the exhibition, Amy S. Martin.  The exhibition was displayed at local coffee house hot spot, Firecreek Coffee Company.

The last day of the exhibited culminated with a film screening of Indigenous women filmmakers work.  I also was able to show my art film, "There is Water but No One Speaks." And after of which the artists did a panel discussion and talk.  The photo above includes the participating artists. Which included:

Jihan Gearon

Eileen Baca

Lyncia Begay

Monica Wapaha

Diedra Peaches

Aretha Shining Moon

Venaya Yazzie

To read more about the show follow the link below:

High Desert Matriarch Art

Blessings in All Things,

Venaya

Poem excerpt Venaya Yazzie

Ancestors in us, with us

Rooted to the strong, high desert cedar trees,

I speak with a green sage tongue

where female words sparkle -

like shimmering summer storm clouds,

like the shimmering eyes of our brown grandmothers.

 The old language lives atop the fingertip swirls:

adindii, adindii, shining, shining...

(by Venaya Yazzie, 2020)

Such narrative as poetry by Indigenous people in the twentieth-century is the truth. We as Indigenous poets, writers, speakers are the artists who are helping to speak the real truth.

I am so happy to share such writing with you All.

Blessings,

Venaya Yazzie

Eastern Dine' Nation,

Navajoland, USA

My grandmother, my forever muse

In memory of my Love, my grandmother Jane Werito Yazzie
Photo: Venaya Yazzie
ALL RIGHTS RESERVED 2020

She was my light in this dark world called 'earth.'

She was my life in this wicked-place called 'earth.'

She was my best friend in this spacial dimension they call 'earth.'

She was my maternal grandmother, she was my 'home.'

When my grandmother was in her mid-forties, she took me into her loving arms and loved me unconditionally. She raised me up as her own 'daughter' and she molded me into her shadow of Navajo woman, Dine' matriarch. I miss her.

As I grew into adult womanhood, I realized how Creator God meant it to be for the two of us humble humans. She saved me in my infancy and in her wise, mature age, her golden years, i saved her.  We fed off of each others love and admiration for life. I was her baby muse.  And she will forever be my matriarch muse.

I was born as a Hooghanlani' -Manyhogans clan female being. On that first day of my first breath I was the image of all my ancestral matriarchs before me, before time.  I was tiny ancestor, fully adorned in turquoise and white shell and all my grandmother's and great aunties sang for me; their prayers gave my spirit life and strength to walk upon this land, in this dimensional space.

My grandmothers departure from this time and space has left a hole in my life.  Since February 4, 2020 I have been wandering this path without her by my side, and truth is - my heart is broken, I am broken into tiny pieces of sandstone.

As a visual artist, poet and Indigenous educator I am conscious of how I must move forward without her by my side. I know it is what Creator God had planned for us.  My grandmother walked with me all my life, and her life and voice and laughter and tears and happiness was shared with me, her 'daughter'. 

She shared with her acquired knowledge of the female matriarch and the compassion that we as women are born with.

As a young girl, she 'adorned' my fingers, my wrists, my neck, my ears with the most Beautyful mineral on 'earth.' Turquoise.  As a child, she showed her overflow of love by gifts of turquoise rings and bracelets.  When I remember her now, I visualize her fully 'adorned' in her jewelry, her royal ways of being.

Shima', my mother and grandmother Jane Werito Yazzie is no longer physically with me here, but she is her with me in spirit.  In my sadness and longing for her Navajo tongue and enduring adoration I hear her and my soul is healed. Sometimes if feels as though my heart stops beating and stay still, just so I can hear her narrative among the ancestral land of my high desert people.  She is absent in body, but then she lives on with me.

My grandmother, my forever muse.

Blessings,

Venaya VJ Yazzie