Sunflower Festival

It’s good to be here. The smell of sage after the rain grounds me in one breath. It makes me question whether or not I have been breathing since I left almost two months ago.

Today in Omak at the Paschal Sherman Indian School the sun is out in full shine. As are many, many students and families. The Sunflower Festival is clearly a popular event. Bill Joseph suggested it’s a good opportunity to re-visit the mural panels we developed at the Northwest Indian Youth Conference.

When I arrive at PSIS I am almost in disbelief to see one of my most talented and thoughtful artists pull up in the car behind me, Tashina. She is helping her mother with the photo display of hundreds of photos taken within the last hundred years on the St. Mary’s Mission / Paschal Sherman Indian School. Later I am welcomed by another gifted artist, Fernisha. In front of a doubtful friend, she asks that I confirm the parts of the panels she painted at the Northwest Indian Youth Conference. I am delighted. And later I see our “Princess” Shundina, vibrant in her spring regalia across the room during the powwow. We wave gleefully.

The day appears clear so we decide to lay the beautiful panels flat on the front lawn. Bill moves one panel all by himself. My stubbornness dares me to do the same. It’s hilarious, I imagine an ant carrying an entire piece of toast and this combined with Bill’s facial expression makes me laugh until I drop the panel. An innocent bystander calls out no more than three words and five adolescent boys appear to move the panels.

We put the panels in a prominent position. This draws attention from adults and elders who squint to read the small print narrative until I join them in conversation. This draws attention from youth who ask in such a good way: “who did this?” And when I explain the youth driven effort at NWIYC they tend to follow up with the question: “can I help?” So ready or not we paint. We paint people and baskets and green landscapes with flowers and single family homes and rain drops and a drum and more. 

I love this mural painting effort because there is no time to think and rethink and think again. Sets of bright eyes want to paint and I need to decide what to assign. Instantly and intimately.

 

Around 2pm, as the event is slowing down, menacing clouds roll in and we are told it’s hailing in town. Hands simply appear without asking and move everything gracefully. I am suddenly reminded of comfort. Like a smell of home or a childhood song. It leaves as casually as it arrives. Then it starts to pour rain.

In a covered space, our original place during NWIYC, the chalk mural is still on the ground and I am left to assess how far we have come. It's "Stage Two" and I resign to the idea there will be a "Stage Three." I decide to test some of the stencils with spray paint before I pack up. A young woman wanders over. Her name is Chanel. Bill calls her Number 5. I invite her to paint. She accepts. She notices what can be added or improved upon. She asks clever questions. She is sharp and her attitude is captivating. She tells us she will be picked up in ½ hour. She stays clear past that. She is finishing her Junior year in high school. Refuses to read Anne Frank in English. And despite her composure and confidence is couch surfing. Meaning there is no home for Chanel. She crashes with a variety of friends. And hitchhikes to get there. But not this time. Bill will drive.

When Bill returns with warm tea we rest our eyes on the landscape. I love the purple hue of the cliff side less than a thousand feet before us. Bill says if you watch patiently you will occasionally see deer move across this scene. It’s better than Where’s Waldo.

(Thank you Bill for the visual documentation.)