Category: art

New Mexico in my Pocket

Here from the official website for The United States Mint. Quarters to be released in 2008.

Oh Far New Mexico, how I long to carry you in my wallet, pocket, slide you lovingly into a slot machine, Coke machine, toss you in a bucket on a turnpike.

How I hope to hold you up and show you quarters from other states and we’ll mock them sarcastically.

I mean…North Dakota with your buffalo. FEH! And Kansas with your, uh, buffalo. FEH! I say.

Gaze upon my zia sun sign gorgeousness! 47th in statehood, number one in new quarter HOTNESS!

Images via.

Monday Media Review

I’ve lazily looked around all the usual suspect news sources for something interesting to pontificate about today. No luck. I’ve hit all my favorite blogs, both political and otherwise. Nothing.

Slow news day? Sure. I could blather about the Red Sox victory over the Indians. And the coming World Series with the Rockies. Nah. Old news, really.

So I’m going to borrow an idea from a rather vain blogger I read (who is NOT from NM, in case you are wondering). Today I’ll recount the media that’s currently swirling around in my world. Just cuz I can.

On my bedside table:

Just finished:
How to Hepburn: Lessons on Living from Kate the Great. Always been a big fan of Katharine Hepburn. Huge. This book is sort of biographical, sort of instructional, focusing more on Kate’s struggles with insecurity and being such an oddball in Hollywood. All in all, though, a great read. Especially if you like Hepburn.

Currently reading:
Lamb: The Gospel According to Biff, Christ’s Childhood Pal. I stumbled across Moore’s darkly funny A Dirty Job: A Novel (about Death. I mean the hooded one.) this summer and laughed my ass off at his real black humor. Plus he’s a Bay Area guy so I was interested. “Biff” was published back in 2002 so I’m quite behind the curve, but this book is so witty, so laugh out loud, so jealous I-wish-I-could-do-that. He makes it seem effortless. He’s got a biting humor with a heart and that’s hard to do. I’ve read so much dreck lately that this book is like a breath of fresh air and I consider it a reward, like dessert, to be able to sit down and read a chapter or two.

Also on my bedside table for when I finish “Biff” is Straight Man by Richard Russo. This will have to be my next read because it is the subject of the November meeting of my local library’s book discussion. Those are some smart well-read folks in that group, so I have to stay on top of my game. It’s supposed to be funny, but I fear after “Biff” it won’t be…we’ll see.

But the one I’m salivating over is Mary Roach’s Spook: Science Tackles the Afterlife. I love, love, love Mary Roach. I became enamored with her from the book Stiff: The Curious Lives of Human Cadavers. It was a well-researched yet wryly funny book. Plus she writes a genuinely funny monthly article in Reader’s Digest of all places. And she makes it work. She adds a lot of light and air to that very stalwart old magazine (that yes, I admit I read…or at least used to. My dad used to gift me with a subscription, but sadly when he passed, my mom decided not to continue the gift). So this one is down in the stack but I’ll get to it. Oh yes I will…..

In the DVD player:

The Cute Boy™ and I are huge fans of movies so we have an obscenity of DVD’s sitting by the telly right now, begging to be watched.

My secret bon-bon:
Season Two of Grey’s Anatomy. I usually loathe medical shows. I’ve eschewed “ER” for years. But one of my friends at work talks about this show all the time and says that I am the real life Addison (which, watching these early seasons, I realize is NOT a compliment…despite Kate Walsh being haaaawt). I watched an episode about a year back and decided to give it a try. I liked Season One. Season Two not so much. Oh well. I watch this evening soap when The Cute Boy™ is off doing other things. I promised I wouldn’t subject him to it, despite the fact that he knows one of the actors on the show.

My “where the hell have I been?”:
Glengarry Glen Ross. One of The Cute Boy’s™ favorite films. Now I understand why the first time I took him to New Mexico he snickered whenever anyone referred to Rio Rancho. This dates back to 1992 but is a great film. Well acted, great script. Memorable lines. Plus, I work daily with sales weasels in my job, and this was a stunningly good insight into the mind of a desperate salesman.

My do gooder viewing:
Fast Food Nation. A fictionalized rendition of the hard-hitting book. I read the book and was seriously moved. The film did it no justice.

My surprisingly good:
Little Miss Sunshine. Way better than I thought it would be…added touch of the family coming from New Mexico.

The nod to the legends:
Gotta watch a classic every now and again to see how it’s done. The Lion in Winter fit the bill. Great script, crappy editing, great cast. A VERY young Timothy Dalton is yummy! And Katharine Heburn, well into her sixties, still rocks the screen.

Coming through the speakers:

Been struggling with music lately. It’s my favorite distraction but I find I’m tending to listen to the stuff I already have, occasionally buying a single song or two from iTunes. Nothing is firing me up lately. I’m mostly back in the old stuff. On a Glen Campbell jag lately (would love to catch him live). Mostly my listening is limited to my Sirius radio. Channel 62, The Roadhouse, playing oldies country. (yes, I admit it).

So I’m open to suggestions here. I’ve grabbed a couple of the Song of the Day free downloads from Starbucks, but nothing yet has fired me up.

This sort of depresses me. For me, music is essential to my sanity. The search continues.

On the ‘net:

Just found the blog Confessions of a Pioneer Woman. Again, where the hell have I been? I’m only a couple days in but this is pretty entertaining…the ongoing tales of a city woman who married a country man and moved to the middle of nowhere. She’s smart, witty and surprisingly open. Fun. Her Ethel channeling Britney sound clip is worth the click. Found this blog from the comments section on a jezebel.com article about women prefering cowboys to city boys. I could weigh in on that topic another time….

And I’m stupidly addicted to I Can Haz Cheezburger?. I dream one day my cat will do something interesting enough so I can lol cat her heiny. For now, all she does is sit on my desk and look at me disapprovingly.

See?

I hope I’m this sprightly at age 70

The Cute Boy™ and I have been talking a lot lately about the subject of aging. Not that either of us are all that old, but both of us are old enough to start pondering our own mortality. Cold weather brings creaky joints that didn’t used to creak. “My back hurts” replaces “I’m so hungover” in my vernacular. I suppose this doesn’t get better as the years pass by. (and, have you noticed, the years are passing more quickly than ever?)

So with aching knees and cold hands wrapped around a coffee mug, I read an article in the Albuquerque Tribune (now with a buyer!) about Merle Haggard. Now, I’m a longtime fan of Merle. You know how some musicians comprise part of the soundtrack of your life? That’s Merle to me. “Silver Wings” brings up a *very* specific memory (and if my best friend in the whole wide world is reading this, she knows exactly which memory I’m talkin’ about). “My Favorite Memory” is another fave…and one of the few songs I learned to play on acoustic guitar. Merle doesn’t play deep or complicated guitar chords. He doesn’t need to. His lyrics can, with an economy of words, cut right to the heart. He is indeed a poet, as the Trib article points out.

So how do I tie all this together? My aching joints and Merle?

Well, at age 70, Merle is making a new album. It’s a bit of a departure for him. He’s doing a disc of bluegrass music, all original songs, which I think is amazing. He’s got a voice made for country, and now hardened by time, I imagine bluegrass will suit him well.

After decades in the business, he’s still got The Muse running in his veins. At an age where he’s made enough music and money to retire, he can’t. The words still flow.

“I guess the reason for writing songs is to make money,” Haggard said, “but then you go back and say, `I’d like to write a song that will be remembered forever.’ That’s more interesting to me than the checks, even.”

It’s a rare bit of integrity in the music market. And memorable songs are what Haggard has done.

This line kills me…it’s so right on, at least to my way of thinking:

“I like to write something that you can photograph. If there’s no picture there, what’s your album cover or your CD cover going to be? In most cases, you’ll find it’s just a picture of the artist, because they don’t have a picture, and it’s kind of sad.”

I may not be a musician, but I’m a writer, a lover of words, and I work real hard at putting words together in such a way that someone who reads them can see a picture. Merle not only creates these pictures, but lasting images that stay in the mind. That, my friends, is pure talent.

“…You can’t have any emotional songs anymore; they won’t play them. Someone might look up from their computer, and they don’t want that. It might disturb somebody. And it all sounds like water to me. . . .”

And at age 70, he’s rasty as ever. Love it. He’s even planning a tour to support this new album…having just come off a tour.

I can only hope/pray/dream/beg that I’m as full of The Muse, the energy and the drive at age 70.

Rejection

Submitted some writing work. Results due yesterday. Felt really good about the piece. Poured all of myself into it. Targeted to a small publication and what I wrote seemed right in their wheelhouse. Was hoping to get some traction, finally.

Nope.

When I put that much into what I write (which is the only way I know how), a rejection of the work feels like a rejection of me. I know I have to get over that if I’m going to ever make any headway.

But still. I’m blue.

I’ll give myself the weekend to mope. Come Monday, I’m gonna toss that leg back over that horse and get back to work.

*sigh*

Sadly

Back in April I had a chance to sound off about the kerfuffle involving the Georgia O’Keeffe Museum in Santa Fe and Fisk University.

Fisk is the owner of the Alfred Stieglitz Collection (O’Keefe’s husband) and since the university needs funds, they wanted to sell off a couple things. The museum made an offer and Fisk agreed to sell. Then the Tennessee Attorney General stepped in and said it wasn’t enough money.

Everyone stepped back, negotiations were had, and a new price was agreed on. Everything looked great.

But reading today’s ABQjournal, it seems things have gone south again.

Everybody was happy until one of the heirs to the Wal-Mart fortune (with scads of money, no doubt) decided she wanted the painting for an as yet to be opened museum being built in Arkansas.

Long way around the barn, since the museum has rights to the estate of O’Keefe they could have sued to take ownership, and Fisk could have lost the entire collection. A Tennessee judge actually thought the university should risk it. A big risk, I’d say, for a cash strapped university. Not only the cost of legal fees but the risk of losing a big collection. I’m dumbfounded.

In a move that makes me sad, but shows the nature of the O’Keefe museum, they’ve decided to back off. They see no need to punish Fisk in this whole process.

And in the end, no one wins.

Bah!

Here is the painting again…the one causing all the fuss, “Radiator Building— Night, New York”: