Tag Archives: santa fe

Great American Road Trip

It has been an incredible journey, the last month since I left Oregon.  I crossed the Golden Gate Bridge at sunset.  I watched an old friend play music in Los Angeles and blow the crowd away.  I acquainted myself with Las Vegas, thank you, once was enough. I had a picnic in the snow at the Grand Canyon.  I passed by the Hoover Dam (missed the exit, Damn!).  I moseyed up Canyon Road in Santa Fe in a faux fur coat and chatted up more than one gallery curator that seemed to think I could afford to buy something.  I drove straight through the worst snow storm I’ve ever seen, on closed highways and icy frontage roads to get to Austin by Christmas Eve.  I sat patiently in the hospital waiting room as my beautiful nephew, Henry David, came into the world and greeted him warmly with tears in my eyes and a stuffed monkey named Bongo. I danced down Bourbon Street in New Orleans with a sugary cocktail in my hand.  And at last, I rang in the New Year with some of my very favorite people in St. Louis, to the masterful sounds of Umphrey’s McGee.

5,000 miles in two and a half weeks.  I reconnected with old friends and new family and am only mildly sick of my music collection.  Thank you Kathleen Mannis, Sam Daggett, Sat-Kaur Khalsa, Nick and Sarah Mandelberg, Caroline Strickland and Roger Linehan, Peggy Walton-Walker, Tim Maggio and The Schers for taking me in and making this whole silly shebang not only possible but damn fun too.
Now I find myself back at altitude in the outskirts of Boulder, Colorado.  For the first time in four years I am experiencing an actual winter without running away to the tropics.  (Not yet at least.)  Next week I will be paying rent for the first time since 2008!  I don’t know how the hell I get away with it but outlaw, vagabond, nomadic, gypsy wayfaring has somehow come naturally to me.

“What next?” is the question I always come back to.  I truly have no idea.  One foot in front of the other usually leads to something interesting, so I’ll start there.  Taking time to write.  Maybe picking up some banjo lessons.  Building Bowrain a colorful little sister.  Dreaming of beaches and palm trees.  Snuggling with Grizzly, my favorite four-legged roommate.  Enjoying having a kitchen and my own room while it lasts, and tentatively planning the next great adventure.  I’ll keep you all posted from the edge.

“I want to stand as close to the edge as I can without going over.  Out on the edge you see all the kinds of things you can’t see from the center.” -Vonnegut

a little more…


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Winter Solstice in Santa Fe

The Native American spirit is spilling out of every adobe doorway.  Even the gravel on the sidewalk is calling to my ancient wolf mother psyche.  The red clay earth and the woven afghans remind me of Kingsolver’s imagery and the homesick nostalgia therein.  Home as the Earth.  The source that we are so far removed from and so yearning to return to.

Stone walls and houses made with hands.  Hands of your family.  Hands of your neighbors.  Villages, or Pueblos, pieced together, wall by wall.  Room by room.  To accommodate a community.

Once again I am overwhelmed by a hotspot of creative inspiration; an entire city, capital city no-less, totally devoted to making and sharing art.

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Filed under On the Road