Black Mesa, AZ, August 5--Mary Lou Thinn perches on the faded pink cushions in front of her 4- by 5-foot loom. A new day has barely broken.
Before her routine of herding sheep and preparing breakfast of potatoes, Spam, corn, tortillas and coffee - the fuel that powers her tiny, sinewy 77-year-old frame - Thinn begins her days weaving, according to the Arizona Republic.
Her long Navajo skirt fans around her, and a blue velvet shirt keeps her warm from any breeze through the window.
Tucked away in her two-bedroom home in the Black Mesa area, she sits quietly amid noises from her cantankerous rooster and the boiling of the mutton stew on the stove.
Her calloused hands are covered with turquoise rings. Thinn's eyes and hands work together as she crosses two sets of cream and brown strands over and under each other. She learned from watching her mother.
The art of rug weaving comes from the hands, mind and heart. Weaving is her passion.
Out of her 10 children, 22 grandchildren and 10 great-grandchildren, she is the only one carrying on the Navajo tradition.
Decades ago, she used to sit on a soft sheepskin and used a homemade loom to weave. The loom stood between a pair of trees as she wove designs with homemade yarn.
Many times, Thinn made her own yarn. She would shear her sheep, clean the wool, spin it with an awl and dye the wool with natural plants like onionskin, rabbitbrush and flowers.
Not anymore.
Today, Thinn uses a steel loom and yarn from the Shonto Trading Post. But the long difficult process remains the same.
As Thinn sits at the loom in the early morning, she strokes the yarn with an oak comb. Many days, she plants herself at her loom for hours.
No blueprint is needed. She keeps all of her designs and measurements in her head. Her secrets and tricks have been used since she first learned to weave at the age of 10.
Rugs represent her creativity. Every symbol and strand of wool means something significant. Each rug is her version of a story.
When Thinn was a teenager, she weaved to support herself. Then, when she married her husband, Ned, in 1946, she weaved to support her new family. Thinn sold her rugs at trading posts for money or supplies.
Today, Thinn weaves just for pleasure. She averages 13 rugs in three months for family members and customers across the country.
Six years ago, the Navajo National Monument visitor center at Betatakin in northeastern Arizona, requested that she serve as a weaving demonstrator. After a survey of local weavers, she was chosen for the high quality and beauty of her work.
Without hesitation, she accepted. She is only there during the summer months.
Ned drops her off in their Ford truck six days a week for eight hours a day.
She receives tips for weaving in front of tourists. Even though she doesn't speak English, she amazes tourists and they ask her questions through an interpreter.
Last summer, she sold a Navajo rug dress to a Japanese tourist for $1,500.
This past year, a couple from Peoria ordered a rug from Thinn. They said they were honored to have her work and took her to a diner in Tuba City.
Weaving for tourists is fine, but what she really enjoys is weaving rug dresses for her granddaughters' graduations and kinaaldá, a Navajo women's ceremony.
Thinn clings to weaving, even though it's a dying tradition on the Navajo Reservation.
"Shítsóíké dá'atl-'ó yidahoodol'áál- bánisin," she said in Navajo, which means "my hope is that my grandchildren will learn how to weave."
She doesn't pressure her granddaughters to learn. She wants them to take the first step.
Just like when she was a young girl, alongside her mother, beneath the loom, between two trees.
