The River I love
The Den and Treehouse
Me banging on things.
Rhiannon & her Papa
Loba making ymminess
All writings & posts (c)2007 Kiva Rose
All artwork & photographs (c) 2007 Jesse Wolf Hardin
It was hard for an Apache-raised girl to understand, how some could see the planet as but a lifeless rock, upon whose surface a bounty was distributed for the good of man. Who saw animals not as spirits but as steaks, fur and wool, pet or threat. Who saw trees only as lumber to be turned into buildings or offer shade from the sun, who judged plants as being decorative or itchy, weeds or crops. To Omen, they were not just wondrous sunshine-eating entities, without whom humans and most of the life on Earth would die. They were proof of miracles, and reason for hope. The inspiration for a good and balanced life, and examples of how to live it. They were her ever growing, ever reaching truth. They were the medicine she would need.
"I'm a third generation Hispanic folk healer, a curandero is the proper term...and we believe that if you listen very carefully to the plants they will tell you many different things...when to harvest, IF to harvest, and how to use them. It will also tell us how to heal an abused heart (soul if you like), and in 20 years, I've never known a plant to be wrong. I've been wrong, but not the plants." - Chuck Garcia, California Curandero
The wild woman carries the bundles for healing; she carries everything a woman needs to be and know. She becomes the medicine for all things. She carries stories and dreams and words and songs and signs and symbols. She is both vehicle and destination.-Clarissa Pinkola Estes