There is an old Haida tale that tells how Raven brought light to the world. Basically, Raven was tired of bumping into things in the dark, and so he devised a method of going into another world and stealing the sun. It involved some pretty fantastic shapeshifting and a lot of patience, but in the end he was successful in bringing light to the dark world where he—and the humans— lived.
This pastel is inspired by that old story, only the trickster here is the crow, and the Sun is a Heptagon, that illusive seven-sided shape that cannot be perfectly rendered—or born into this world—like all the other sacred polygons (the triangle, square, pentagon, hexagon, octagon, and nonagon). It represents a quality of light that is from a non-ordinary world.
The Trickster is the epitome of the principle of disorder. That’s because part of Trickster’s job description is overthrowing old programs—and that is messy business.
But the other part of a Trickster’s job is to bring gifts from the heavens, to bring new life to culture. Tricksters excel at snatching things that are otherwise unattainable.
If old programs are breaking down, what are we gathering to put in their place? This is not just a cultural or political question, it is a profoundly personal question. It is the work of the day. We need the trickster’s capacity to bring a light from the non-ordinary world. Then we can see things with fresh eyes. Then we can know our way.
