Star Bead

Behind the Art

meetings with remarkable women

Until I lived in Colorado, I had no idea how powerful and extensive remains the Native American influence. Moving from New York to Boulder was moving from a literal coast on the Atlantic Ocean to a metaphysical coast where the great plains meet the Rocky Mountains. I expected cowboys and ski bums, New Age yogis, and aging Hippies, but nothing prepared me for the Medicine Women, Native Shamans, and Tribal Elders.

Red Feather Woman, whose birth name is Rose Red Elk, and I connected instantly when our booths adjoined at a metaphysical fair. She is an elder of the Lakota Sioux/Assiniboine Nation with bloodlines of Chippewa and Cree Tribes. I was struck by her many works as a singer-songwriter, storyteller, and maker of exquisite dreamcatchers and jewelry. We had an instant rapport, the kind that makes one believe in past lives and karmic connections.

Red Feather Woman and me at the Denver Body Mind Spirit Expo in 2016.

the photo shoots

Honestly, when Rose said she needed publicity photos, I had no specific vision or image in mind—I just wanted to capture her spirit, the artforms she practices, and the stunning, handmade regalia. Just as the Vision Quest elicits a spirit guide and represents a rite of passage, so does the process of preparing deer hide, stitching beads, shells, and quillwork, and slicing the regalia’s fringe bring forth the totems and powers used in PowWow and the healing work of a Tribal member. I wanted to see Rose in action, playing her hand-made hand drum, singing, dancing, calling forth the grandfather and grandmother spirits she teaches of in her stories and songs.

We went to several locations: Red Rocks Amphitheater, a grassy meadow in Louisville, a hiking trail in Wheatridge, her backyard. Here are just a few of the images from our shoots.

the story

Rose taught me words that changed the way I think about this world. She describes life as an earthwalk, her place of origin as a star village, and cultural guardian-teachers as keepers. In Rose’s view, there is a keeper for each of the elements earth, air, fire, water, as well as abstract fields of consciousness, like wisdom and dreams. Her lullabye, Keeper of the Dreams, brings me to tears every time I hear it. The music and story transport me to a Star Village and evoke my fondest memories of childhood and teens: fireflies in the forest, dew-drenched summer mornings, astral travel and lucid dreams. Here are the lyrics:

keeper of the dreams

Time to sleep my loved one, I will be nearby
We’ll soar on the wings of a firefly
To a star village where things are what they seem
Then, my love, you will meet the Keeper of the Dreams.

Close your eyes, your journey’s just begun
Cross over to the dream world until the night is done
Beneath the Milky Way, ride their golden beams
Into her stardust arms, Keeper of the Dreams.

Then, when the dawn breaks and your night is through
Morning brings a day that is new
I’ll be waiting here, by the starry streams
When she brings you home, the Keeper of the Dreams.

© Red Feather Woman

what i thought as i created

The idea of the Star Village activated my imagination. Speaking with Rose, I felt that deep down—much as she loves Earth—she wanted to return to that real home in the distant cosmos. The dreamcatcher seemed like a satellite dish, collecting messages from her ancestors and others who still dwell in that Star Village and watch over a person during their Earthwalk.

I imagined Star Bead as Father Sky’s favorite daughter up in that Astral plane. Each night at the PowWow, Star Bead danced across his wide arms, gathering stars in her hair-shawl as she twirled. Each star trapped in her long black hair held a Spirit: Summer, Midnight, Snow, Fire. The quicker Star Bead danced, the more Spirit-Stars got stuck in her web of hair: Larkspur, Sage, Gambel Oak, Rose. Star Bead danced faster and faster, snaring more Spirits: Rabbit, Owl, Snake, Wolf. Each star made her heavier and faster, until one night, Star Bead fell out of her Father’s arms. Down she fell like a shooting star, until she landed in a strange, grassy plane, far from her home with Father Sky. As she hit the ground, the Star-Beads in her hair scattered, and each Spirit took up its new home. Summer went south, Midnight west. Snow headed north and Fire fled away to the east. Larkspur, Sage, Gambel Oak, and Rose hit the ground so hard, they exploded out roots below and boughs above. Rabbit and Snake hid in the grass, while Owl soared and Wolf became a hunter. Star Bead herself stood and brushed herself off, but when she danced, there were no stars in this new place to be caught in her hair. So she cut some strands and wove them together in a hoop, the way Grandmother Spider showed her. Each night, she stood beneath the dark sky, hoping to catch a wandering star from her home.

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Rose Red Elk aka Red Feather Woman’s booth at the Indian Market in Denver, Colorado.

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