Where I was born and where and how I have lived is unimportant. It is what I have done with where I have been that should be of interest.
Yesterday we drove to Santa Fe. First stop: Indian reservation. Second stop: rest stop. From henceforth, this shall be my author photo.
Third stop: Georgia O'Keeffe museum. Did not know that critics began to see her flower paintings as sexual symbols only after an exhibit of Stieglitz's nude photographs of Georgia.
My painting is what I have to give back to the world for what the world gives to me.
Fourth stop: food. I had batter-fried fish tacos and Jason had Frito pie. Later, we went to a patisserie and had chocolate raspberry mousse, white chocolate meringue with hazelnut mousse, and apple turnover.
I bought these bunny earrings.
Jason tried on western wear at the oldest trading post in Santa Fe. The ladies at the store said they were bored and made him pose with this gun. I'm so scared for those dolls.
In front of my house there are low scrub brushes and cottonwood trees and, further out, a line of hills. And then I have this mountain. A flat top mountain that slopes off on each side. A blue mountain. And to the left you can see snow covered mountains, far, far away.
Next week: Alamogordo and White Sands.