While I dream of being an artist someday, and I believed that the near-perfect world of California’s Central Coast would transform my dream to reality, here I am, back in New Mexico reveling in the spice, the exotic, the contrasts, the heat, the cold, the dark and the light again. Creative juices bubble within my slightly worn body. What causes the shadow artist within to scream for release in this rarefied air and light?
While we walk beneath what seems like a blue dome, what is more magical than finding a tiny blue butterfly, a spot of blue flowers, a blue stone, or a blue-feathered bird? In nature it seems like all shades of blue are compatible and unlike my interior designer friend’s home decor warning.
I discovered yesterday that my sensitivity to spoken words is a weakness, a fault, and a chip on my shoulder. Admittedly, I’m a sensitive person. I can cry watching car commercials. Tears flood my eyes when I watch adorable pet videos on You Tube. A beautifully worded poem will cost my box of tissue about 10 tissues. When a soulful guitar solo wafts towards my ears, the whites of my eyes turn red and I sniffle through the song. Yes, I’m a […]