Sunday, August 16, 2009
Pow-Wow Feeling, 2009
It isn’t a second wind, really, because that came a long time ago, before the migraine crash, now also in the past. How to explain where it comes from, what I call “that pow-wow feeling”? Is it the hypnotic drumming and singing, the rhythmic chant that gets into the blood and calms the spirit? Is it the beautiful regalia colors taking in the early evening, low summer sun and giving them back in such a way that you feel you’ve never seen these colors before in your life? Swirling ribbons and shawls, bell-like percussion of the jingle dresses, stately gait of the older dancers, and the cheerful, homey chaos of little children running up and down the hill, in and out of the circle all add to the magic. After a buffalo burger basket, I didn’t really need frybread, but, as I explained to David, the experience didn’t feel complete without it. Now, the next day, one of the hottest of the season, all my late summer exhaustion has vanished. The world is beautiful, and I am serene, having slipped through the needle’s eye of August.
There’s no such thing as being too tired to go to pow-wow. There’s only being too tired not to go.