Santa Fe 2015: Sunflowers

A well-dressed tourist in this city of tourists, she stood in front of the still life of sunflowers.

“I was in Amsterdam years ago and got to go to the Van Gogh Museum,” she said.  “It was a privilege.”

“How lucky you were,” the artist agreed.

“I loved his Sunflowers painting,”  she continued, “and of course I can see his influence on your work.”

“You know, I get that a lot,”  the artist replied. “It’s the sunflowers, it’s the only thing people see.  But except that they are sunflowers, everything else really is different!”

“Yes, but you can still see his influence,”  the visitor insisted, turning to look at the artist.

Outside, a beautiful day of turquoise skies and spring breeze.

“Thank you,” the artist stepped back on a sigh.

Being a Collector

From the latest Santa Fe trip:

Little Dancer

Oil painting from Raymond Nordwalll, whose art gallery I have always managed to miss because it is tucked in a little alley off Canyon Road.  I went back four times to look at her . . . .

She is just a little girl, dressed up for her first ceremonial dance, and she looks at us and says: “I’m smiling and is this all right?”  It is the perfect expression, the one that little kids have when they are about 4 or 5 and they are asked to smile for the camera and instead of smiling, they do that fixed show-all-the-teeth thing that is half-way between a grimace and a smile.

I hope Raymond Nordwall continues to paint children — he is a natural at it.  One of the reasons I love this painting is because she evokes history and culture and spirituality without insistence.  She is at the beginning, when all things are possible.

____________________________________

CSA Share Week 21:  garlic, spinach, collard greens, leeks (gave away), green onions (gave away), flat-leaf parsley, cauliflower, broccoli, carrots, potatoes, kohlrabi, eggs

Recipes:  roasted root vegetables, spinach with pesto capellini, rice and beans with collard greens

The Question of the Day

On Facebook (where else?), from one of The Teenager’s “friends”:

Where can I get a pedicure and simultaneously use wi-fi in this town?

Where, indeed?

As it turned out, it was not hard at all to find a salon where one could stay connected while a total stranger worked on one’s toe nails . . .   I am sure Henry James would have had something elegantly derisive to say about such a situation — had he only lived another hundred years or so.    How much does a pedicure cost, anyway?

Probably nowhere as much as this:

This beautiful 12 inch tile is by Polly Whitcomb, and is one of the last pieces from her La Sala Pottery studio in Ribera, New Mexico.  Polly Whitcomb has moved back to Vermont, and the Santa Fe gallery on Canyon Road that featured her work, Clay+Stone, is in the process of closing  its doors.  It had become a ritual for me:  tea and dessert at The Teahouse, then across the parking lot to what was originally the Canyon Road Pottery before it became Clay+Stone Gallery, then later a short stroll down the hill to Deborah Gold Gallery to see my favorite oil impressionist . . . .  Clay for life, marble for immortality: over the years I have collected bits of both from the same gallery.  And now,  I wish Josh and Stacey the best in their next big adventure.

Becoming a Collector: Santa Fe, 2012

First, there was the “tour of Santa Fe hotels,” courtesy of Sandia Shuttle Xpress (which, by the way, has for its representative at Albuquerque airport one of the rudest desk minders I have ever encountered).  We were ten passengers with eight stops, and I got to see all sorts of hotels I had heard of but did not know the locations, and also got to wonder why the people getting off at the Hilton couldn’t get off at Water and Sandoval (the default location for non-hotel drop-offs), and walk across the street to the hotel.  But then that would be highly inconvenient, wouldn’t it, even in the age of rollie bags!

Then it began to rain.  Imagine, the land of little water, and it rained!  Thrilling, in a way, but somewhat discouraging at the start of a vacation.  I trudged up E. Palace Avenue with my brand new rollie bag — the smallest I could find that would fit not just under the middle seat, but also under the aisle seat — bumping along beside me.  A young woman came towards me, dressed in jeans and a parka with a fur-rimmed hood.  April in Santa Fe, I thought, and I am in a skort and a light weight, long-sleeved running shirt layered over a tank top.  On the whole, I may have been the one more inappropriately dressed, at least for the next half an hour or so.

At Deborah Gold Gallery I saw this:

. . . .  and I bought it.  I had been in Santa Fe less than three hours.

Six years ago we bought our very first painting, by any artist, from Deborah Gold — an impressionist oil of a vibrant Santa Fe sunset, all reds and purples.  Loved it then, love it now.  Since then, we visit her gallery whenever we’re in town, but have not had a gut “gotta have” moment since then . . . .  until last Thursday afternoon.  She has branched out into monotypes, and the spontaneity and energy required for her new process is obvious in these works.  The monotype I bought is not actually a monotype, in the sense that what I fell in love with was actually the second, “ghost” print.  If you buy one work, it’s one work; buy two works, it becomes a collection.  We are, officially, Deborah Gold collectors now.

Santa Fe, May 2010

Alto Street Angel

Angel Josefina, across the street from the adobe casita we rented in the Guadalupe district in Santa Fe, where a 700 square foot condo farther down the street was listed at $275K.  I don’t know the purpose of Angel Josefina, but blessings would have been useful as I 10-point turned my car into the casita’s parking space.  But to my delight, we discovered — after banging into the side posts coming and going — that my side mirrors bend both ways!

Alto Street Mural
Santa Fe for Knitters

But it would be a pretty sadistic knitter who would impale a ball of yarn with that many needles . . . .

"Southwind," Gene and Rebecca Tobey, Ventana Fine Art

$30,000 — and I don’t suppose that includes the shipping.

"Walks Among the Stars," Dave McGary, Meyer Gallery
Follow the Red Brick Road ...

. . . . to the Tarabino Inn in Trinidad, Colorado.  The building is also brick, but has been painted pink.  Not an obnoxious pink, mind you, but definitely pink.  The owners have lovingly restored this historic home, and it is not remotely frou-frou.  It’s a house I can imagine living in, creaking floors and all.  Aside from the house itself, the bed and breakfast experience was unimpressive.  The innkeeper could best be described as brisk (perhaps even abrupt), and the breakfast workman-like; it was one of the most impersonal bed and breakfast stays I have ever had.

Trinidad bricks
Tarabino Inn