Timeout from essays in the Work-in-Progress file. This year is about projects of the heart and whim. And about noticing the shifts in the wind and the new aromas riding on it
On Sunday afternoon I put Santa Fe in the rearview after my two-day stopover stretched to nine. It was north by northeast to Taos to catch Gail Caldwell’s keynote speech at the 13th Taos Summer Writers’ Conference.
The Jolly Swag loped along the highway at her three miles to the dollar pace so that I could watch the mesas rise and fall, the plains stretch out like a waking feline.
At the end of a long low-gear rise, during which the temp needle had halved the distance to the overheat mark, the view opened like a musical. The JS sighed her gratitude.
At the crest was an aging stand offering exotic jerky,
a concrete picnic table the surface painted in green letters, “Progress results only from the fact there are men and women who refuse to believe what they know to be right cannot be done”
and a view worth a million dollars and a few blogworthy pix.
And Terry McCaulley and his 30- pound alabaster eagle he spent five months sculpting.
Terry is a fine sculptor, as evidenced by the photo album of his work.
If you have $21,000 in your fine-art budget and, especially if the eagle is your personal totem—as it is one of mine—and a place of honor for Terry’s lovely piece, call him at 575-758-3593. Tell him AL sent you.