Copyright © Anne Carlson  |  All Rights Reserved

Anasazi Valley,

My Story

I"I declared a new purpose.  I would make an imperfect drum.  Every spare moment I would work for a few minutes or an hour or two.   The little blemishes or nicks didn’t matter anymore."

"It was like the valley opened up, and would orchestrate all that was needed for that wish to come true."

"There was something about this place.  It felt familiar, though I had never been there before.  It was like the earth itself had a soothing emotional presence.  It was drawing me in, calling to my inner being, coming from somewhere or something on the other side of that bridge. "

"So there it was.  I was to find a cottonwood or pine tree, a special one with a good feeling that called out to me.  Anything less, Jake would know.   Once I had been given an assignment, our conversation was limited to that.  The more effort I devoted to it, the more we had to talk about, and the more I learned."

"A man with sunglasses, wearing a fringe leather jacket and a black cowboy hat with an eagle feather, strategically placed so that he could hear sounds of the wind, took the lead by picking up a large drum. It was Wilford Moroni Jake, known to most of us, as Jake.   My experience at Anasazi Valley had begun."

"I prayed, 'Dear God, if this strong feeling comes from you, than please find a way to get me through and up to that little house.' "

"I started by giving my attention to a tree while in a prayer-like mindset.  I would keen my awareness to sense a feeling or tone, being on alert for any change in the energy it might produce.  Noise from random thinking needed to be quelled in order for me to pick up the faint, subtle signature that nature produces."