Sublime

After transporting what looked like a dead, charred log to her distant garden, I saw a Matsigenka woman breathe life back into a hidden ember using a combination of dried moss, which she brought with her, and thermal reflection from other logs. I was also embarrassed when another young Matsigenka woman, with the requisite infant slung at her side,

All day and all night long, her only people are the trees, and her only means of speaking for them are words, those organs of saprophytic latecomers that live off the energy green things make.

Recurra a los que cada día le ofrece su propia vida. Describa sus tristezas y sus anhelos, sus pensamientos fugaces y su fe en algo bello; y dígalo todo con íntima, callada y humilde sinceridad. Valiéndose, para expresarse, de las cosas que le rodean. De las imágenes que pueblan sus sueños. Y de todo cuanto vive en el recuerdo.

Chief Oren Lyons, Wisdom Keeper of the Onondaga Nation, tells us that when we place our feet on the Earth, the faces of our grandchildren are looking up at us from the soil, so we must walk carefully.

We are weaving into those roots every time we name them. Even if we no longer know the names of our ancestors, or where they came from—even if their stories have been lost and their songs forgotten—still

Each one volunteers to be eaten, so others might be spread far afield.

He explained that before entering the studio he always makes a sacred fire to burn his offerings of gratitude and remembering before ever playing a note. Indeed, a kind of grace reveals itself in his recordings, as if the music thrives in his invitational presence.