See that photo at the top of my blog? I’m so desperate for something to write about, I’m now going to embark on a series of posts in which I explain everything about each object in the picture.
The first one’s going to be a little hard to see. Look at the far left of the photo. There’s something behind the orange salt shaker. Even if you look really close, you may not be able to tell that it’s a tiny, very primitive kachina doll.
Not a real one, of course. This is one I made out of a stick from our backyard when I was 10 or 11 – which makes it circa 1964 or 1965. I was very interested in Native American crafts at the time, and I continually got books out of the library by W. Ben Hunt. He explained such fascinating things as how to carve a totem pole, how to fire pottery, how to make cornhusk dolls, and how to make a simulated bearclaw necklace from wooden claws.
I made miserable attempts at all kinds of little things. Why the kachina doll survives is beyond me. It’s about 4″ tall, and I carved a few details with a dull pocketknife (probably cutting myself in the process). I then painted it with whatever poster paints I found lying around. The stick already had a hole in the end, which made a perfect place to glue a dyed feather. I think the feather was green. I haven’t seen that feather in decades.
Somewhere along the way I decided to give the kachina a coat of varnish to preserve it, and I’m sorry I did. It’s very glossy now; I miss the original matte finish of the poster paint (the stick absorbed it pretty fast, so it was never very bright).
Sometimes some weird little thing finds a spot on a shelf and you wind up carrying it with you forever. That’s how it is with my terrible little kachina doll. When I see it, though, I remember exactly what the day was like on the back porch of our Maple Street house in Oakley. And I remember how I felt at that age, and how much I enjoyed making things. I still do.
