Compost and small frames.--II

Rain on the Sangre de Cristos--I painted this on the port of my late uncle's porch in Santae Fe, a few years ago

Pueblo Universe, 4" by 10"

Much of my compost pile of unframed work involves New Mexico obviously. These are also smaller, freer, more impressionistic. The largest is 7" by 10"  but all are non-standard sizes. I still need to have these framed.
The one at top I painted from my uncle Mike's front porch in Santa Fe five years ago, watching rain obscure the mountains. "Pueblo Universe" is a favorite and I have no idea how I did that, and "Taos Spirits" is another favorite impressionist, a small one of a large version I sold a few years ago at Paseo in Oklahoma City. At the bottom and a traditional landscape, "Cabezon" is a volcanic neck in northwest New Mexico, and this is the view I saw heading home from camping at Chaco Canyon. All of thee are personal.

Taos spirits--6" by 9"

Going to church--5" by 5"

Cabezon--on the road back from Chaco Canyon--7" by 10"

No word for "artist," and a bear fetish

"The Zunis have no word for 'artist,'" the Santa Fe shopkeeper told me. "They just do."
On a whim, I'd stopped in the Keshi shop on Don Gaspar Street a week ago. The sign read "The Zuni Connection." Although I'd walked past it many times, for some reason I went in the door opened to the cool afternoon sunshine, and discovered another face and more stories about New Mexico.

The store, in business since 1981, is named for the word Zunis use as a traditional greeting and is pronounced Kay-she. Inside I found hundreds of the carved fetishes on shelves and cases, open for picking up and examining the stone carvings of different animals, all of which have meanings to the Zunis. That pueblo is located in far western New Mexico, and distinct from most of the other pueblos up and down the Rio Grand valley. Here's a link with videos of the Zunis.
"The Zunis believe the fetish chooses you," she said, and I spent 30 minutes going from case to case. The jewelry cases were the only ones locked, for good reason,  and sooner or later I found myself looking at many bear fetishes. As a lover of bears, especially grizz, I've often considered it my totem.
I found several, left, and returned in 30 minutes to buy a small bear fetish, carved out of black Jet and with turquoise eyes and heart inlaid. 

Georgia Quandelacy

It's not signed, because most Zunis consider that egotistical and inappropriate. But the sticker had the name of the artist on it--Georgia Quandelacy, a third generation carver.
When you buy a fetish, the store gives you a small packet of blue corn meal, with instructions. Corn is also sacred to the Zunis and other Indians, and it is never sold, but given, as the mother, the connection between earth and all life. Giving the corn is a reminder to give back and be thankful.
You take a bit of the corn meal and sprinkle a bit on the back of the fetish in a meditative ritual to honor the spirit in the fetish. When you offer corn to your fetish, in return you will be blessed.
Zunis carry their fetishes when they are hunting and elsewhere, not worshiping the image, but the spirit of the animal within. Each of the different animals have specific meanings and symbolism to the Zuni people.
Bear, according to the Zuni, is the principal animal for the Pueblo People and they are the most prevalent fetishes. Bear fetishes are used for healing, protection, strength, journeying, mothering, hunting and gathering. Bear's hibernation reminds us of  the value of going within. 
Turquoise tends to bring good fortune, strength and helps overcome illness. Native 
Americans have prized turquoise since the time of the Aztecs, who mined it in New
 Mexico. 
Bear is the most human of animals, and symbolizes for me and others, the
 connection of all life and the interconnectedness of all spirituality. These people
 don't make the division between work and every day life and spirituality and
 religion like most Westerners do. No wonder there is no word for "artist." That
 signifies a separation from regular life.
To me, their beliefs and civilization is stronger than ours because of that. They were
 here before us, and will be here after us.
I'm glad this bear fetish chose me, and blessed me by sparking new stories and 
thoughts. He resides next to my computer and painting table.
Some of the wording in this article comes from the Zuni. I reprint it as fact. If there are
errors, they come from my ignorance and I apologize. No disrespect intended.

Pueblo pondering

Taos two...8 x 8 1/2 watercolor, handmade paper from  India

Taos Pueblo in New Mexico is closed to the public this month, and that is good, though we Caucasians can wonder why, and even if we were told, we would not understand.
When you know you come from the earth, and that all things and beings are related, part of a larger whole, spirituality is inseparable from daily life.
We could learn much here, we'd be richer ourselves, if we'd shut down our national parks and public areas for a year at a time, banning traffic and people, to let the earth and our fellow creatures rejuvenate.
But we are too money and time obsessed, too divorced from the wonder of all things to just stop, and let the earth breathe without us. We think we're civilized, but this town and people were here before we were...and they'll be here after we are gone.
Thus today's painting...Taos Two.

The veteran I knew best--Memorial Day thoughts

Because my Dad lost his leg jumping a freight train in Tucumcari in 1932, he did not serve in World War II. But three of his brothers did. Rex, Mike and Champ. Rex and Champ were in the Army, Rex in England, and Champ in the Aleutians. Mike joined the Navy.
It's uncle Mike who became my favorite uncle, me carrying his name as my middle name. He was the bachelor, the traveler. He sent me a balsawood, battery operated PT boat from Japan while he was serving in Korea. He taught me how to kick a football in Fort Worth. From me, he caught the mumps when we lived in Albuquerque. He showed slides of his travels to Machu Picchu and other places, working for the state department teaching English in Ecuador, Libya, Iran, Mali, Tunisia. He settled in Santa Fe, teaching at the famed Institute of American Indian Arts until retirement, making friends on all of the pueblos. Then as the years passed, we lost touch, until about 15 years ago  when I needed him most, his Santa Fe home becoming a place of refuge. 

Uncle Mike, Susan and I at La Fonda a few years ago

From him I learned much about my Dad and uncles I'd never known, in our long talks at the foot of the Sangre de Christo Mountains as the setting sun turned them purple and red, viewed from his porch. Sailor's tales of WWII and Korea added to my knowledge of history and family. We'd "run up the rooster," as he would say. A former signalman, the semaphore flag for cocktail hour was a rooster. Rum and coke, "Cuba Libre," would add to the flavor of the evenings.
Now his ashes are buried in Santa Fe National Cemetery. We buried him Nov. 10, 2011 in the place he had called home for 30 some years, just across the highway from his home, and within sight of the Sangre de Cristos.
I know this about veterans on this Memorial Day...all of them have rich stories, all of them affect more lives than they ever know. Saludos a los todos veteranos. Muchas Gracias!

Mike's view of the Sangre de Christos

"Cowboy" Museum riches

It's no longer the Cowboy Hall of Fame, though most folks still call the National Cowboy and Western Heritage Museum just that. We're fortunate... it's just "down the street" from us actually, a nice back road drive of a few miles south. I don't go there enough, but did yesterday and walked into a surprise. The exhibit "Pueblo to Pueblo--The Legacy of Southwest Indian Pottery shows all kinds of pottery from several  different pueblos in New Mexico and the Hopi in Arizona. It's here through April 6 from the Kansas City Museum. You can't take photos, but I've included a photo from my collection, via Uncle Mike. This is a small"wedding vase" from Santa Clara. The wide variety of pottery forms and the decorations is an adventure in art and imagination. You should go see this exhibit soon. www.nationalcowboymuseum.org/
   Part of the exhibition has included demonstrations and talks, and I barely got there in time for the second to last one. Today is the last such.

    Renny Reeves, now of Oklahoma City, Lakota and Ottawa artist whose name is also Keche Weewaquahn was doing bead work. It is astounding to me the amount of patience and time that goes into such work, whether bead work or pottery. That's where Native Americans are more civilized that we  are...they have a different culture and sense of  time--non linear. I told Renny, "You don't make art like this with a wrist watch on." I've approached it occasionally when painting and I've talked to others who agree, time ceases to exist or matter.

  Mr. Reeves does this for a living, making Plains Indian style feather bonnets, fans and moccasins and all other kinds of things too. Behind him you can see a bonnet he's made, and a poster of the pottery exhgibit. He's working on a bead covered ceremonial vest. The front part is in the foreground. His email is harlirenny@cox.net.
   Exhibits like this add to the riches of the museum, which is packed with great art about the west, from Remington to Russell and before and since, Native American art, displays on western movie actors and movies, firearms, barbed wire, the U.S. Army in the west, hunting, western hats, frontier towns, rodeo, and more. Also current is an exhibit of sculptures of Indians done from Bodmer and Catlin watercolors.

The power of Pecos--chapter one

There are places where the universe is thin, some believe, and I believe that it is one of them.

I've been trying to write about the old adobe church ruin for quite a while, but for some reason, just couldn't sit down and do it. Even these sentences are coming slowly, but every once in a while, you're given a sign that provokes action.

We were thumbing through old National Geographics before giving them away, just to see if there was something to save (that's another several blog postings to come). We put one aside to look at later, because it was from 1990 with Quaddafi on the cover, illustrating an article on Libya coming out of isolation. I barely looked at it, and then, just a couple of weeks ago, discovered the very last article in  the issue was about this favorite place of mine.

Pecos National Monument, 25 miles east of Santa Fe, New Mexico.

The article was about the ancestors of the now extinct pueblo--who now live at the Jemez Pueblo 100 miles west--gathering the remains of 2,067 of their ancestors from a Harvard museum and reburying them in their own sacred ground.

Pages from the past. National Geographic, November, 2000 about the return of Pecos Indian remains. Two religions--the old adobe Franciscan mission in the background, with a  circular kiva in the foreground, the ladder leading down into the earth for sacred and secret Indian ceremonies.

I don't much believe in serendipity or coincidence, but I know there are forces in the world that we don't grasp nor comprehend.  The discovered article was the prompt to sit down and write about this place of power for my imagination and spirit. I know I'm not alone.

I had just visited there Memorial Day and taken more photos, as I have done many times before, along with taking students there for photography and writing, wandering the ruins with family and friends and the spirits and presence of the very visible past.

I've watched over the years the continual improvements to the National Park Service Welcome Center and its unceasing efforts to preserve the earthen monument and rock walled pueblo ruins from further decay. You can see scaffolding in the photo at the top of the blog, taken Memorial Day, as workers continue their efforts.

The adobe church and pueblo are historic--even mentioned in Willa Cather's Death Comes for the Archbishop. The skies and light of New Mexico continual change the color of the adobe---almost orange in the morning sun, muddy brown at midday, sometimes almost red in the evening.

 I've tried to paint it many times, never to my satisfaction. I will try again.

12 by 9, watercolor, 300 pound d'Arches paper

This is a traditional view, looking northeast, in the evening light. So-so, I think. Good enough to frame and hang at home because it's personal.

To me the most captivating part of the ruin is that window...it's almost like it's an entrance into another world. More on that later with photographs. By the way, that is not the front of the church. It is a window into where the bells once hung near the rear of the church. The projection on the left is the former apse of the church. The huge structure faced West.

5 by 7,  watercolor 140 pound d'Arches paper

This abstract--impressionistic, expressionistic painting was a departure for me, forced away from the traditional to really capture the spirit and force of the place rising out of sacred and power earth...I guess by the spirit and force of the place.

Obviously I need to do more of this, because I sold a very large painting of Taos pueblo in the same style at the Paseo Arts Festival--my larges sale in a long time. But Pecos' influence was first.

I don't believe you can measure the power of such places.

An earlier 11 by 14 photo of mine from one fall morning a few years ago. It hangs in my garage because I don't have a place for it.

  Next, more about the pueblo, its history and photographs of that mysterious window.

Pueblo country rain--watercolor

10 by 11, 300 pound Artistico paper

Land of Enchantment--watercolor

"Cibola"

6" by 9" watercolor, Strathmore Imperial 300# paper

The conquistadors came into the Southwest from Mexico in 1540, Coronado looking for  Cibola, the legendary Seven Cities of Gold. What they found shining gold in the evening sun were the pueblo adobes along El Rio Grande in what is now Nuevo Mexico. They also brought the Catholic faith of the followers of San Fransico de Assis, and by 1610 had founded the capital of Del Norte at La Villa de Santa Fe de San Francisco de Assis--the city of the holy faith of Saint Francis.

The Indians kept telling about gold over the horizon at "Quivera.".

Coronado kept going east, even into Oklahoma and Kansas looking for Quivera and found more Indians and no gold.  The conquistadors are long gone. The golden land remains.