Sameness

“There is no sameness. If you looked down upon the world from above, like an albatross, you might phant’sy there was some sameness among the people crowding the land below you. But we are not albatrosses, we see the world from ground level, from within our own bodies, through our own eyes, each with our own frame of reference, which changes as we move about, and as others move about us. This sameness is a conceit of yours, an authors hobgoblin, something you fret about in your hammock late at night.” ---Neal Stephenson, The System of the World

Sometimes it's too bad we are not all the same; with the same needs, desires, fixes. We could take care of each other by rote, easily determine what is missing from the happiness equation, and supply that deficiency. No effort, no delving into the consciousness of another, no silly anticipation of needs, just a simple answer to the simple question 'What do I want?', it would be the same for everyone else . . .

Gold and Green Turquoise

I fell in love with a gold ring last weekend. Curious. I'm generally not much of a jewelry person. Of course I appreciate a nice stone or skillful metal work as much as the next person, but I don't wear jewelry very much and have never been acquisitive in the accumulation of jewels. I don't even wear a wedding band, much less an engagement ring. But, then, I've never had a piece 'speak' to me in quite this way before! Betsy and I went to Naranjo's Jewelry and Repair in Old Town Albuquerque, on Romero, to get a quote on some turquoise pieces that Betsy wanted repaired and/or altered. We spent some time talking with Stella, and Elizabeth, looking at the jewelry and trying on pieces. I saw the ring in a display and commented on it, it was so unusual. But I didn't try it on. A bit later it caught my eye again as I walked past the case, so I asked Elizabeth to pull it out for me. Yellow gold, formed like coral tendrils wrapping around the finger to delicately grasp an oval cabochon of green turquoise with a lovely rusty brown matrix. The gold looked rough and natural, as if it had been plucked from the earth as it was. Beauty in its roughness, elegance in the setting of the turquoise. Very heavy, very comfortable. I can't stop thinking about it, though I know I can't have it, with no private income . I reluctantly returned it to its case. But the weight of it on my finger stayed with me for quite some time. I've been back to see it several times, and have to talked to Stella about its history, it is one of her pieces, lost wax technique, and if I remember correctly the turquoise is from CO.

Petroglyphs

My favorite petroglyph at the Pertoglyph National Monument, Albuquerque, NM is the macaw. I love the simple free lines, and yet enough detail in the tail and wing to evoke movement; It is two dimensional, yet I expect it to morph into three dimensions and flutter off the rock at any moment. I am fascinated by the exotic bird trade from South to North America; the idea of these intelligent birds being carried across hundreds of miles of desert, companions to their bearers, and placed at such a value as to be traded for turquoise, silver, gold, or other precious stones. The feathers themselves were sacred and beautiful, bright adornments from the southern jungles to the dry muted mountains of New Mexico . . .

Another group of petroglyphs I like, also from the Petroglyph National Monument, are the curly Navajo sheep. They have an amazing amount of detail considering the medium, and more than a utilitarian aspect about them; I feel that these particular sheep were familiar enough to the shepherd to be recreated in leisure hours upon the varnished surface of the lava rock with an effortless grace and love and humour.

The Mountain Lion Petroglyph is located in the Arizona Petrified Forest. I love the impact of this piece! The claws, the long tail thrashing above its body, and yet the lack of teeth! It is quite a large design, upon a thick. flat slab of desert varnished stone. Powerful in its elegance . . .

Bluedunes Whitesands

Here is my first serious piece since settling in NM; (Hopefully this marks the beginning of at least seven more pieces before the end of the year!) The inspiration behind it is of course the White Sands National Monument that I have visited twice now, as well as Richard Diebenkorn's New Mexico period (a precursor to his famous Ocean Park series.) Medium is colored pencil on gessoed hardboard, 16.2" X 30".

Currently this drawing exists as a backdrop to my cichlid tank. The fish seem to enjoy it so far!

Book Review: Death Comes to the Archbishop, Willa Cather

I was pleasantly surprised by the random musings, frontier folktales, and historical pictures contained within this book. I had no real expectations when I picked it up, just that it was written about New Mexico. Not a Catholic myself, the religious aspect of French Priests bringing salvation to the Mexicans and Indians of the American Frontier was to me only a vehicle for the writing, but I was touched by the spirit of humanity and the deep fellowship of these people towards each other; Even amongst differences of race, culture and religion. I thoroughly enjoyed the lush descriptions of the mountains and desert, the trees, and people inhabiting the land; The quality of reading a journal of reflections.

Among the many reflections of the Archbishop Latour, is this; In New Mexico he always awoke a young man; not until he rose and began to shave did he realize that he was growing older . . . He had noticed that this peculiar quality in the air of new countries vanished after they were tamed by man and made to bear harvests . . . One could breathe that only on the bright edges of the world, on the great grassy plains or the sage brush desert.

One of the tales includes a vivid scene of the demise of a Padre among the Acoma Indians; They carried him down the ladder and through the cloister and across the rock to the most precipitous cliff-- . . . and after a few feints, dropped him in mid-air. So did they rid their rock of their tyrant, whom on the whole they had liked very well. But everything has its day.

I would refer this book to those who enjoy a slow journey of ambiance and savoured glimpses into another time and another culture . . .

Inspiration

With a host of furious fancies
Whereof I am commander,
With a burning spear and a horse of air,
To the wilderness I wander.
By a knight of ghostes and shadowes
I summon'd am to tourney
Ten leagues beyond the wild world's end.
Methinks it is no journey.

--from Tom O'Bedlam's Song