by Hope MacLean
ELIGIO: Also the women. Also the women can make them. The nierika, also they can make it. According to whatever they think to ask for, they can make it. They carry it there, and so on. To know how to sew, and everything.
Peter Furst (2006, 88) observed a yarn painting made by Varadara, the wife of Catarino Rĺos, that depicted a calf. Nevertheless, it is relatively uncommon for women to make sacred yarn paintings. I asked Eligio why this was so. He did not seem sure of any specific reason, but thought that it might be because the women are trained in other arts, such as sewing and weaving. Therefore, they prefer to use the skills they have learned. Many women memorize existing patterns, so perhaps they are less used to innovating designs. Moreover, the person who originates yarn-painting designs should operate out of some shamanic or visionary ability. This is harder work than copying previously learned designs.
HOPE: But usually it is men, right? That make them?
ELIGIO: Yes.
HOPE: Why is it normally men?
ELIGIO: Well, because . . . it interests men more than women. Because the women always, many women, or their mothers teach them, to do sewing. But it comes from the same source. But one has to take hold of the embroidery. Those ones [the women] copy because it seems to them easier than to think about it. Then they make copies, then with that it is enough. But for the person who wants to originate, that is much harder work. Only the ones who are going to originate.
HOPE: Yes, it [making original designs] is always harder work.
ELIGIO: Harder work. Because he is . . . not seeing nothing. He is seeing something.
Eligio’s comment here is reinforced by Stacy Schaefer (1990, 245), who notes that only some women learn to weave original designs. Those who are most advanced in a spiritual career learn to weave designs from the heart, or iyari. The other women are content to copy traditional patterns.
Another reason may be that women have their own offerings. Gourd bowls are a standard prayer offering for girls and women, just as prayer arrows are for boys and men. The bowls are powerful objects of protection and prayer in their own right. A gourd bowl made by a mother is a prayer for the health and welfare of her family as a whole.
In fact, Eligio said that a gourd bowl can be equivalent to a yarn painting and serve the same functions. A bowl with the same design as a yarn painting has the same powers, particularly if it is a large bowl. A gourd bowl also has the power of colors, or of bestowing shamanic vision.
HOPE: Do a yarn painting and a bowl have the same power? Are they equal?
ELIGIO: They are the same. This one, the bowl, a large bowl, that has the same design, it has the same value. The place that you take it to. And you will receive the same sacredness. At the place where you take it, the sacred [place]. Because this also has colors. If you take it to the sacred cave of Tatewari, Paritsika, Aitsarie, Aariwama, all those places.
The sacred yarn paintings are made ritually, with prayer and fasting. Ideally, Eligio said, a person should fast for four days before making a painting. At the end of the four days, he or she may make the painting. In contrast, an artist can sit down and make a commercial painting any time. As Eligio said, “Commercial paintings are para lujo” (Sp.: a luxury good). It is the difference in how they are made that most distinguishes sacred paintings from commercial ones. Sacred paintings are made in a sacred manner, with the intent of offering them to the gods. Commercial paintings are not.
Imagery of the Sacred Painting
Only a few authors have published images of sacred paintings.1 I review the published images here and highlight common characteristics.
Juan Negrĺn (1985, 42; 2005, 43) reproduced a photograph of four sacred yarn paintings. He identified them as petitions for supernatural vision from the sun. All four are roundish, have a central hole, and show two deer facing each other. Two include an eagle. All have small circles and triangles whose meaning is not explained. (Perhaps the triangles represent the rocks of sacred sites.) Negrĺn photographed only one side. He does not mention whether there is another image on the other side.
Pablo Ortiz Monasterio photographed twenty-two yarn paintings during a ceremony, probably in Santa Catarina; he photographed only one side (Ortiz Monasterio, Nava, Mata Torres 1992, n.p. [73]).2 He gives no explanation of their purposes or symbolism. Three paintings show one or two deer, with circles and triangles. Several show a coiled serpent or spirals that could represent a serpent. A number have arrangements of geometric figures such as triangles, straight lines, and crosses.
A verbal description of a sacred yarn painting is provided by Knab. He saw offerings left for a kieli plant in Santa Catarina. He describes a “wool drawing” with designs of cattle “done in brightly colored wool pressed into wax,” which he explained as a prayer to increase the fertility of the animals (1977, 83–84). Knab (2004, 151) also records that a person who wants to be a shaman must go to San Blas and find all the places where the sea serpent mother-goddesses emerged; these are marked by haiku, a coiled water snake, pecked into stone.
Several anthropologists collected sacred yarn paintings. Lumholtz (1900, 133–134) reproduced one that he called a “special front-shield,” a form of nierika. It has bands of blue and white beads representing sky and clouds, and around it are zigzag rings of red and yellow wool; coils of black, yellow, and red yarn representing grains of corn; and a large paper flower. It is a prayer for rain.
Lumholtz and Zingg both collected yarn paintings, which are illustrated in Berrin (1978, 152–153). The Lumholtz painting shows two deer facing a crisscross or starlike object. There are wavy lines that could be serpents. On the other side is a circular sun-like motif with radiating lines. The larger Zingg painting is reproduced in color in MacLean (2001a, 45; 2005b, 23). It shows a mixed group of animals, including deer, serpents, and birds, on one side; on the other side is a mirror surrounded by a starburst of crisscrossing lines and a wavy circle around the perimeter. All three Zingg paintings contain a sun-like image with radiating lines on one side. The obverse sides vary. One painting has a group of animals, including two deer, a bird (possibly an eagle), and serpents. A second has another sun-like design. The third, an odd bottle shape, has what looks like a human figure.
An unusual yarn painting, also collected by Zingg, is an oblong board painted blue (MacLean 2010, 64). It has a design of a sun, a cross representing the four directions, rows of humped mountains, and at least two serpents.
All together, these published photographs show about thirty-two sacred offerings. If we may generalize from this small sample, it appears that there are several basic designs for a sacred yarn painting. A central hole or circle with radiating rays is a common design. A second motif is one or two deer facing a circle, a criss-cross design, or a star. A mixed group of animals and birds is another basic design; in particular, this group often includes deer, an eagle, and one or more serpents. A fourth design is a single coiled serpent or spiral. The geometric designs photographed by Ortiz Monasterio may represent another category or group of images.
Fig. 5.2. Pablo de la Cruz, an older style of yarn painting showing a coiled serpent in the center and six fish, date unknown. 24” x 24” (60 x 60 cm). Photo credit: Hope MacLean.
Most of these designs, except the geometrics, are also found in god disks and other offerings. Similar imagery is found on stone god disks (tepari) collected by Zingg (Berrin 1978, 147; color version in MacLean 2001a, 44; 2005b, 22) and by Lumholtz (1900, 26, 28, 30, 34). I have seen the coiled serpent or spiral in clay or stone disks left as offerings at a sacred site in Santa Catarina.
Little has been recorded about the interpretation of the sacred yarn paintings. Therefore, I asked Eligio to tell me what some of these designs meant. I began by sketching the image of a coil or spiral. I have seen some versions of this design that are clearly a coiled serpent with a head.3 Others are simply a rough design of a spiral. Eligio immediately identified it as a design representing Aariwama, a rain goddess.
HOPE: I wanted to ask what the designs mean i
n the original yarn paintings. For example, I have seen one time in Santa Catarina, there was a sacred site where they leave a design like this one.
ELIGIO: Yes, that is the sacred water. The sacred water. That is called Aariwama.
HOPE: Aariwama.
Fig. 5.3. A page from my field notes, showing sketches that Eligio and I made as we discussed the designs of sacred yarn paintings.
ELIGIO: That is the one that sends the water, that snake. That snake. At the same time, that snake is also lightning bolts, that create thunder. That is the snake. It goes about among the clouds. That is it.
HOPE: And we went to a spring near Nueva Colonia, and there is a place where the people leave these. I don’t know if they are made of clay or of rock.
ELIGIO: They make them from rocks also. [sound of chipping] They make them. They make the designs . . . a snake. Those are called . . . at the same time, it is called Aariwama, it is also a nierika. Of the shamans. They take them so that the god will see what is in their mind. It is a magical power, to receive that from this.
HOPE: It is a shamanic power?
ELIGIO: Yes, of shamanism.
I decided to try asking him about other designs I had seen in yarn paintings. I drew several concentric circles, with another circle around the outside with toothed or jagged edges. He immediately identified it as the nierika of the sun, which should be taken to a cave sacred to the sun. The cave is located in Teekata, in a canyon near Santa Catarina.
ELIGIO: That is a nierika of the sun. The sun. They take it there. There are many caves. There are all kinds [of caves]. There is one for the sun. One for Tatewari. One for Aariwama. One for Paritsika. One for Takutsi Nakawe. And, well just five. But at the same time, there are these five, there are another one, two . . . there are three missing, four, five gods.
HOPE: Can you show me?
He drew several more pictures of yarn-painting designs in my notebook. One was a stick figure of a child. He identified it as Aitsarie, a sacred site that is a place to take children. A second design was a stick figure of a standing woman. He identified this as Takutsi Nakawe. Because she is the owner of the earth, she is given offerings related to corn.
ELIGIO: The other is, here is Takutsi Nakawe, like this. This is a god also, this way. Takutsi Nakawe. Well then, I have to . . . when the fiesta of elote [Sp.: corn on the cob] is held. This is the owner of the earth. According to what it indicates and everything, this one remains in the rock there. The image appears in the place of that god there. So we take offerings there—arrows or muwieri or candles, here in this place. . . .
But sometimes a person asks her—for example, I asked her for power. I have to keep on carrying [offerings] here to this place. Here to this place, I am going to take candles, and I am going to take arrows here, and offerings. Most important, a nierika hung from this one [an arrow] or this one [a muwieri]. I go leaving offerings here for five years. When I ask. Or here as well. It is the same.
Then he drew a fifth design, a spiral coil with a scorpion beside it. It represented the sacred site of Paritsika, Lord of the Deer. He reminded me that the snake and the scorpion can transform into each other.
ELIGIO: And which? Oh yes, Paritsika, here it is. There is a snake here also. At the same time, it can turn into a scorpion. A scorpion here [draws snake and scorpion in circle]. Paritsika. It is a magical secret. Almost miraculous. With this god, I also have to carry [offerings] here to this place. For five years. But only if I am making requests from all these gods do I have to leave offerings here, here, here, here, and here. All these [places]. I have to carry . . . It is as though they [the gods] are eating. But if you are just going with one only, you only have to go to this place. That is how it is. For this reason, they carry their offerings and leave them there. So that they [gods] see them.
I asked him about one more image: one or two deer, either by themselves or facing a design of a circle or concentric circles with a toothed circle around it. He identified it as a yarn painting to be used once one had finished the pilgrimages needed to become a shaman. Even though a person was no longer bound to make pilgrimages, the gods did not want to be forgotten. They might remind the person by making him or her ill if they feel neglected. Therefore, the painting represented a promise that the person would continue to leave offerings of arrows, blood collected from sacrificed animals, candles, and sacred fire or copal incense.
ELIGIO: It is a promise. It is a promise that when I have completed with those gods, finally completed five years, six years. Well, I will stop going after those five or six years. Well, the gods are going to . . . I am going to make myself sick, because I am no longer visiting those sacred caves. Well, if I get sick, then I am going to try to kill a deer. I will kill [it]. Then we take a little bit of its blood to paint on this magical power.
The design in the middle he identified as the source of food (Sp.: comedero; literally, “feeding trough”) for the deer.
ELIGIO: The comedero. It is a candle, a plate full of candles. And if not, a sacred fire, they burn it. They burn it to bless the arrows. And then, already blessed, they carry it to him. That is what this consists of.
HOPE: [pointing to the jagged circle in the middle] This is like copal?
ELIGIO: Exactly, that one.
HOPE: This means “copal”?
ELIGIO: Yes.
HOPE: And “copal” means “the sacred fire”?
ELIGIO: Yes, sacred fire.
I queried whether this yarn painting was used only when a person became ill and felt that the gods were punishing him. However, he said it was used before that point, as a preventive measure. The person made that painting after finishing a series of pilgrimages and being released from his or her vow to the deity of the place.
HOPE: And do they take it only after the person gets sick, or—?
ELIGIO: Yes, already. After they finish. After they finish.
HOPE: After finishing?
ELIGIO: After you go about free. If not, they will capture you again. [The gods will say:] “Why don’t you bring us something to eat? We are going to find you. We are going to make you sick.” Then the shaman has to discover this. [The shaman says:] “Oh, they are asking you something over there. They are already waiting for you.” But now you are going to make something like this. They will say to you, “What thing are you going to make?” You are going to carry this thing to that place. And this way, with that color. The color. You will put this color on it. Fill it in with that color. You will take it there. They will clean you off. And then it is finished.
Eligio felt that these designs were the most important ones he could think of and a fairly comprehensive representation of the sacred designs. Most of these designs are quite simple. They consist of a simple geometric shape, such as a circle or a spiral, or one or two stick-figure shapes, such as a child, a goddess, a scorpion, or a deer. The designs are not the same as the elaborate, storytelling narratives or compositions that have evolved for use in commercial paintings, designs containing many figures and showing ceremonies. Nonetheless, the images Eligio described do appear quite often as elements in commercial paintings.
Eligio did not cover all the designs illustrated in other books, and unfortunately, when I interviewed him, I did not have copies of the books with me to show him. There is more to be learned about the meaning of sacred designs, such as whether the meanings are standardized or whether different artists, shamans, or communities have their own interpretations.
It is noteworthy that Eligio linked his principal yarn-painting designs to particular deities and to the sacred sites belonging to each deity. This gives us a clue to what may be the indigenous or emic system of categorizing sacred yarn paintings.
Kindl (2003, 187ff) received a similar explanation for the meaning of sacred bowls. She interviewed Doña Andrea Rosa Medrano, who told her that her family’s bowls represented sacred sites and sacred geography as it was understood by her family. Doña Andrea and Eligio Carrillo live in the same region an
d share many links, so it is not surprising that there is overlap in their explanation of sacred objects. Doña Andrea is a daughter of Don José Rĺos (Matsuwa), a shaman and elder from Colorĺn. Eligio accompanied Don José on many pilgrimages to Wirikuta and considers him one of his main teachers of shamanism. José Rĺos was also the brother of Guadalupe de la Cruz Rĺos’s mother, and one of Lupe’s teachers as well.
Sacred Paintings and Rock Carvings
I asked Eligio whether there was a story about how yarn paintings originated. I expected a mythological explanation, such as the myth of Kauyumari and the animals recorded by Zingg (1938, 629; see Chapter 3.) Therefore, my first question was whether the gods made yarn paintings. Some Huichol ceremonies, such as the pilgrimage to Wirikuta, are replications of activities first performed by the gods. I thought that yarn painting might have been given this supernatural sanction. But Eligio replied that it was not the gods who first made yarn paintings, but the Huichol shamans. Then he launched into a fascinating explanation about the origins of yarn paintings being in designs found in rocks, and predating the Huichol. I have translated the Spanish word “huellas” as “signs,” although my dictionary also gives the possibility of “traces” or “footprints,” which is suggestive of images left in rock by something that passed through long before.
HOPE: And is there a story about the ancient ones that explains the origin of the cuadras? Like of the gods, that they made yarn paintings, or something like that?
ELIGIO: No, they didn’t make anything. Absolutely, that came from the shamans. And it happened that, from the gods, from before, there existed signs [Sp.: huellas], as I told you. Yes, signs. They existed in the rocky places, and the shamans discovered that they should make them like designs. The first design that was made, the shaman was there to make it. Because he had the head for it, [the knowledge] of what colors to use, of how it was shaped, what he saw in that place. And from there they began to make things like that.