This is my second acrylic painting this year . But I had this in my
head for a couple of years . I finally did something about it. Had some problems with glare on the lower left the shadows are too dark on the right . I needed to try outside in the shade.
The story behind this is the 3 sisters are corn beans and squash .
Depending on which tribe each one has their own legend or story . I have heard legends and stories from many of the tribes around the 4 corners . I am afraid I will butcher their oral traditions by mixing stories . The one I know is from back east.
Many years ago there were three sisters who lived together in a meadow
. The sisters were very different from one another. First of the three
was a little sister,
so young that she could only crawl at first, and if she wanted to stand
up she had to twine herself around her eldest sister who carried her
younger sister all the time. The little sister wore
velvet green with fancy ribbons.The eldest. She was always standing
very straight
and tall above the other sisters trying to guard them . The eldest
sisters feet gets sore and hot holding up little sis and protecting the
middle sis. The middle of the three
sisters, wore a shawl of bright yellow and was running off
across the field when the sun shone and the wind blew in her face.
She wrapped herself around big sisters feet keeping them cool in the hot
summer sun
There was
only one way in which the three sisters were alike. They loved one
another very much and were never separated. They were sure that they
wouldn’t be able to live apart.
After a while, a stranger came
to the sister’s field. It was a little Seneca boy. He was as straight
as an arrow and as fearless as the eagle that circled his head far above
in the sky. He knew the way of talking to the birds and the small
brothers of the
earth, the mouse, the groundhog, the chipmunk, squirrel and fox. The
three sisters were very interested in this little Seneca boy. They
watched him fit his arrow in his bow, saw him carve a bowl with his
knife and wondered where he went at night.
Late that summer, the
youngest sister in green velvet who couldn’t stand up without the help
of her big sister, disappeared. Her sisters mourned for her until the
fall, but she did not return.
Once again the little Seneca boy
came to the three sister’s field. He came to gather reeds at the edge
of the nearby stream to make arrow shafts. The two sisters who were left
watched him and gazed at him with wonder at the prints of his moccasins
marking his trail to the field.
That night the second of the
sisters disappeared. This time it was the sister who dressed in
brilliant yellow and always wanted to run off across the field. She left
no mark of her going but it may have been that she set her feet in the
moccasin tracks of the little Seneca boy and followed him.
Now there was only elder sister was left. Tall and straight she stood in the field never
bowing her head with sorrow, but it seemed to her that she could not
bear to live in her meadow alone. The days grew shorter and the night
grew longer and colder. Her green shawl faded and grew thin and old. Her hair once
long and golden was now brown and tangled by the wind. Day and night she
sighed for her sisters to return to her, but they did not hear her. Her
voice when she tried to call them it was low and sad like the cold winter wind.
But one day when it was the season of the final harvest, the little
Seneca boy heard the crying of the third sister. He felt sorry for her
so he took her in his arms and carried her to the longhouse of his father
and mother. Oh what a surprise awaited her! Her two lost sisters were
there in the longhouse of the little Seneca boy, safe and very glad to see
her. They had been curious about the boy and they had gone home with
him to see how and where he lived. They had liked his warm longhouse so
well that they decided to stay there for the cold winter. And they were
doing all they could to be useful.
The little sister in green,
now quite grown up, was helping to keep the dinner pot full. The sister
in yellow sat on the shelf drying herself for she planned to fill the
dinner pot later. The third sister joined them, ready to grind some meal
for the Seneca family’s bread. Ever since then the three sisters
spend their spring and summers in the field together, and their winters
in the longhouse, helping to feed the family of the little Seneca boy.
And the three sisters and the Seneca have never been separated since.
This is the preliminary sketch 18 x 24
Acrylic on 22 x 28 gallery wrapped canvas.
