Santa Fe

Herself speaks.

It's remarkable how it seems as though it takes the entire workweek, to prepare to take one work day off.  

Last week, Monday through Thursday were extremely busy, so that Friday could be spent out of the office. Beloved Husband and I took that day off, and took a leisurely drive from our usual corner of this desert southwest, to Santa Fe, New Mexico. (We went to Santa Fe at around this time last year as well -- we are looking to make it an annual pilgrimage, in honor of our anniversary which is in a few weeks.) 

It's such an interesting place: so many contrasts. Rich and poor, desert and oasis, art and mundane. We looked in all the expensive tourist-y shops; had several very fine meals at very fine restaurants; perused Art in various galleries; saw a ballet performance at the lovely little theatre. It was quite nice. 

There are some parts of Santa Fe that give me pause.  There is a lot of art in the galleries that depicts idealized Native Americans: beautiful maidens wrapped in furs or skins, waiting expectantly; stoic warriors in full regalia or war paint, staring defiantly; plump children contentedly gazing at  small carved toys, and such. I would be very surprised if any of these works were created by actual First Peoples artists.  It feels a little bit like Indian pornography -- exploitative, false, glossing over the ultimately terrible history of Native Peoples in the area (and throughout the United States). And there are the indigenous street vendors selling their wares on the weekends, on numbered spaces on the sidewalk by the center square -- there is the same vaguely uncomfortable feeling of exploitation and discomfort there, too. Is it just me? I don't think so. 

 There is also the conservative politics of some people of the region, that we strenuously avoid (particularly with the apparent assassination attempt on July 14, while we were in Santa Fe). The present state of the nation, of women's rights, of the Supreme Court decisions and other current events, fills me with such despair that I can no longer read the news. It's hard not to think about what's happening. But that's a discussion for another day.

We took the scenic way back to our corner of the desert, which was a very nice drive. Long freight trains, wind turbines, cows, a few pronghorns, and stretches of dry landscape as far as the eye could see.  It was a refreshing nothingness. I could spend forever in that interim.

Alas, we are now Back to Business As Usual.

It was a good trip, though.  We'll do it again next year.