Tag Archives: Montana

Leyenda Eterna

I met Foxie Flambé last summer camping in Jackson Hole, Montana.  We had both been invited to a spiritual gathering that celebrated the opening of the Sacred Door Trail, a 165-mile long, nondenominational, circular, pilgrimage route.  For four days and nights, we kept a sacred fire burning, listened and participated, while spiritual leaders from faiths around the globe blessed the space.  For many of us, it was an intense and changing experience, full of great joy and great release.  On the last night, Foxie sidled up to me and asked if I would be interested in wearing a feather Mohawk.  Obviously, I said yes.

Fast-forward seven months, I get an email from Foxie asking me to purchase a ticket for the festival event Leyend Eterna.  At first, I balked, and totally missed the chance.  I had reservations, the event was being held across the Mexicali border in a desert canyon in Baja, Mexico, an area known for border violence.  Knowing I had missed the opportunity, I stopped thinking about it until a month later when I received another email, they had released more tickets.  At the time I was traveling through Mexico and had nothing but a suitcase full of clothes, no camping gear whatsoever.  Foxie promised me that she was fully equipped to host me.  If I just showed up at her house in Orange County a day or so before the event to purchase food and pack, she had all the camping gear and costumes I would ever need.  I bought the ticket.

One month, and a pickup truck brimming with gear later; I was watching the sunrise as we drove south.  What followed was one of the most unique festival events I have ever attended.  Leyenda is much like Burningman, but set in an arid desert canyon with an oasis of palm trees and fresh running hot and cold springs.  The six hundred or so participants are assigned small campsites, each with their own natural hot tub.  During the day, hot weather is offset by hiking up to icy waterfalls, where one can brave high rock jumps into the deep pools below.  On Saturday, there is an annual pool party where all attendees come dressed in their finest festival regalia to dance, swim, and enjoy their vice of choice.  Thankfully, the main stage does not bump twenty-four hours a day, which allows you to really enjoy the tranquil, natural beauty, of the place.  At night though, the party is on and everyone gets down on the dance floor until the sun comes up.

I was encamped right next to the main stage with Hullabaloo.  The core of camp Hullabaloo is a group of circus performers known as Lucent Dossier.  Needless to say, over the top pranks, performances, and general shenanigans were the norm and there was never a moment when someone wasn’t in hysterics laughing.  I felt super welcome in this group, and I am so thankful that knowing no one but Foxie, I was surrounded by such fun-loving, caring souls.

Each night, as the moment struck me, I snuck off and did photo shoots in the beautiful, moonless, desert, darkness.  Although, on very dark nights the challenge is to figure out how to light myself, the stars that appear in these images really bring out a special beauty.  For a few of these shoots, I was able to borrow Isis wings from Foxie, a special treat that I hope to revisit someday.  I am really happy with the work that I accomplished over these four nights, the last being a photo shoot with Miss Foxie Flambé herself.  Enjoy the images, and if anyone ever sends you an invite to Leyenda Eterna, don’t hesitate!

As always, double click to enlarge and please feel free to share, repost and subscribe.  Xoxo –janelle

Janelle_Pietrzak

Janelle_Pietrzak-2

Janelle_Pietrzak-3

Janelle_Pietrzak-2-2

Janelle_Pietrzak-4

Janelle_Pietrzak-6

Janelle_Pietrzak-5

Janelle_Pietrzak-2-3

Janelle_Pietrzak-3-2

The Thirteen Grandmothers

This summer I was invited by my friend Terra Celeste to attend the 11th council of the Thirteen Grandmothers.  I had no idea what I was getting myself into by attending this gathering, and in a lot of ways the repercussions of this event may directly affect my life for the next several years.  The thirteen grandmothers are indigenous women from different cultures around the world.  They are on a mission to pray in their own individual and collective ceremonial ways in order to bring peace, and balance back to the universe.  Although these women are often confined to walkers and wheelchairs, make no mistake; they are possibly the most powerful group of women I have ever encountered.

The Council was held on the Lame Deer Cheyenne reservation in eastern Montana.  Cheyenne grandmother Margaret Behan hosted this gathering.  Originally, three hundred participants were expected, but over the course of the four-day encampment, over seven hundred arrived from around the world.  I, like many others, did not know what to expect but the importance of this council was quickly evident, especially in regard to the Cheyenne people.

Initially, the event was to be held at Grandmother Margaret’s house.  After a forest fire came within a few hundred feet of her property only days before the opening, the gathering was moved to the local public powwow grounds, a move that proved to be quite fateful.  Although, the grandmothers are on a peace mission, change often comes with great resistance. After only a short time on the reservation, I was given a crash course in tribal politics.  Basically, it is tradition for the elder men to speak and hold council, and although women are generally free to express their opinions, they do not make important tribal decisions or hold councils of their own.

By bringing the grandmothers to the reservation, Margaret was going against thousands of years of tradition and was met with physical and psychological opposition.  A group of militant young men came onto the powwow grounds before the event and threatened cause problems if the grandmothers did not cease and desist.  This clearly shook up everyone involved and after a meeting between the grandmothers that lasted into the wee hours of the night, they decided to proceed.  Thankfully they did, because this may have been one of the most important events held in recent Cheyenne history.

As the days progressed, the grandmothers prayed, and began telling their stores, both personal and historical.  They told of war, oppression, massacre, marginalization, and the loss of land, food, water and children, they mourned the loss of old traditions and ways of living.  Many white people also came forward with stores of their own, including the great grandniece of General Custer, who asked forgiveness for her family’s roll in oppressing and murdering the Cheyenne people.  Slowly, the men started to come around, to hear the stories, and witness the healing the grandmothers were offering.  By the end of the gathering, many of the tribal chiefs had don their feather headdresses and welcomed the grandmothers, thanking them for taking action and opening their eyes to the possibilities of a new future.

So much happened while I was at this event I cannot begin to summarize everything in this brief blog.  Suffice to say, I saw a wild wolf, ran out into a lightning storm, witnessed a crowd react to a tiny ancient Nepali woman the way one would expect from a revival church, slept in a tipi, and made a promise I intend to keep.  In our final meeting, Grandmother Margaret asked me to return to the reservation and hold a photography workshop for the local kids.  I am just starting to work out the details of this agreement which involves a lot of research, grant writing, and planning, but hopefully by next summer I will be able to fulfill my commitment to Grandmother Margaret.

Ghost Horses

Sometimes good ideas really do come like bolts of lightning.  In early June, I went to my best friend and co-collaborator, Aloyse Blair’s, bachelorette party.  We all flew out to Colorado for the Telluride Bluegrass Festival, where her sister Cecie, had rented a mansion on the ski hill serviced by private cars and a gondola.  Aloyse and I had gone to Bluegrass several times when we were in our late teens and this was such a wonderful opportunity to go back.

We spent four days dancing, drinking, and having an incredible time with thirteen of the most wonderful girls on the planet.  One day, while getting beers at the festival, it suddenly, with no warning, dawned on me that I should take photos with our horses.  Although it might seem obvious, given that my family lives on a horse ranch, it had actually never even crossed my mind.  Long exposure horses: “ghost horses.”  When I got home from the festival, I told my mom who just laughed and said that she had been wondering when I would figure it out.

A few weeks later, after getting back from Montana, while I was taking my workshop at Anderson Ranch, I decided to start experimenting.  I took my mom on a moonless night, and headed out into the field to meet my two elected models, George and Stoli.  I had to have help with this shoot because the horses were really excited to have company and would have clearly knocked the tripod over.  We used a few small lights to illuminate the horses from the front while I did my best not to get trampled.

As per my workshop, I tried to stay close to the camera and tell a story, to bring on the theater.  One of the other exercises from the workshop was to choose the title for the image before it was made.  The title of the first image below (and my favorite) is, “This Time She Came Prepared,” or as Arno nicknamed it, “George the Fire Eating Horse.”  I am really happy with this work and I can’t wait to keep experimenting with horses in the future.

The Bridgers

Concluding The Sacred Door Trail opening ceremony, a group of us headed to Weston Pew’s stunning family-ranch that nestles up against the Bridger mountain range just north of Bozeman, Montana.  The week spent there was a much-needed decompression after the spiritual intensity of the previous few days.  We spent our time resting, singing along with guitars on the porch, eating home cooked food and going on a bunch of outings.  One of these outings was on the fourth of July and included rafting down the Yellowstone River, eating a picnic lunch, and singing and dancing the night away at the Bank Bar (a local cowboy watering hole), in Wilsall, Montana.

During this time there was a full moon and though I was pretty spent from camping, I found time to take a few photos.  My previously mentioned partner in crime, Melanie Malia, helped me wander out into the moonlight to take some photos with the Pew’s lovely grey horse.  Just as we were starting to get our rhythm, “Bill” the notorious beast of a dog, came and did a fine job of chasing the horses away.  As everyone who was there can attest, the name “Bill” on the ranch is generally said at full volume and followed by some sort of accusation or negative…. “BILL… NOOOO BILL… NO BILL… BAD DOG BILL… STOP THAT BILL… BIIIIILLLLLL!!!!!!!!”

Once Bill was content with the horse situation, he lay down in the road and happily watched us finish the shoot.  As I have mentioned before, I have a very hard time working in full-moon light.  The conditions are very similar to working in daylight and present a huge challenge when working alone.  It’s a bit like being on a fully lit stage with no script, set, or props, and told to just do something cool. Inevitably, whatever you do ends up feelinging a bit contrived and awkward.  Personally, I feel this way about these images, but I have also had some good response to the work, so I feel like I am close to something new.  In the next post I will go into some of what I learned in my workshop with Arno Minkenen… as I try for a breakthrough.