2020 Note - This entry was imported from my old blog, some of the links may not be active.
Museum Hill Sculpture
It started out as a joke. A friend of mine mentioned a trip to Santa Fe and a tour to explore Pueblo Indian Art and I joked that if she wanted a chaperone to let me know. She needed a roommate and promised to send the information along. The next morning I found the tour information in my email and glanced at it before heading out for school. On my long drive, the trip began to spill out into my thoughts. I thought about it all day off an on.
Summer Monsoon Clouds
Later that day my professor took us over to the school's museum collection. As we stood in the large warehouse I found myself looking at Pueblo pottery. Rows and rows of pottery including the black on black designs so distinctive of the Santo Ildefonso Pueblo. It was there that I understood that I had to go.
Returning from this trip has been very hard. Santa Fe is a beautiful place. New Mexico flirts with the creative soul. The food is incredible. There were textiles, patterns and art everywhere. I filled my camera with references to add to my sketch book
Sometimes there are places that get under your skin. You feel instantly at home. I felt home there. It doesn't surprise me that I felt that way. My mom lived in Northern Arizona and I spent a lot of my growing up years visiting and part time living there. I love high desert. I love the mix of cultures, food and the wide open spaces. My post trip depression hit hard and fast. Don't get me wrong, I love the area I live in, but I've known for a long time it isn't mine. It is home, but not
home.
I have a few weeks remaining in summer to hit the last remaining projects that I want to finish. As I work toward the start of a new school year and a new school experience, I'm keeping New Mexico in my heart.
Indeed it is magic.
