This is my go-to decompression spot! I missed this news article, was alerted to it by our local Vistas magazine.
Whether the original folks develop it, or the bank forecloses, much was not going to be preserved anyway. We'll fight for now, but no matter our efforts, the landscape will be developed at some point. I suppose we have to be grateful we got to enjoy it for this 'grace' period between building booms.
It's a place where one can still find absolute solitude and quiet within a few minutes' drive.
The loss, at some future date, will mean my days in Santa Fe are numbered. #NewMexicoTrue has beshat upon all our other 'solitude' locations. I need to move further out into the boonies. There is not a trail left where you can escape the piles of mummified dog leavings and MTB gel-packs.
We operated for a year with a constant pressure of running out of money. We never had more than two weeks worth of cash on hand. One time our bank was overdrawn and I had 100 artists to pay; $75,000 was needed. I had to make some really difficult phone calls.
He must have deep-pocketed financiers. But then again, just about anyone will shell out for a George R.R. Martin sponsored production. To give you backstory, galleries open and close here quite frequently, all in similar financial situations - albeit with fewer artists to wrangle. If the 'bet' doesn't pay off, you can guess who goes home with empty pockets. Even prosperous galleries and art collectors have the cojones to bargain over price with extremely talented artists who are, quite literally, on food stamps. Kudos to Meow Wolf and Kadlubek for making sure everyone got paid.
Tour outfits in Santa Fe occasionally get on a "always ask in the gallery if this is their BEST PRICE." I really want to give them a swift kick in the rear. NM True! Yeah, uh-huh.
... the FAA in Albuquerque alerts American Airlines Flight 1095 to keep an eye out for an object in the sky as they fly towards San Diego. Less than a minute after the warning, Flight 1095's pilot radios in that his plane was just passed by the UFO.
Autoplay video warning. Close to home! I have friends in town here who have a cabin up in the Pecos Wilderness. They claim they've seen these silver reflective shapes appear many a time. No fear, just wonderment. And the enjoyment of telling a really good story. Always at night.
For a brief moment, there is no wind! We've been thoroughly blasted over like the last two weeks. I'm going outside to experience the rarity. Back soon.
A slightly tatty first generation Smart Car, with the license plate: RATTRAP.
I drove behind, chuckling. Exactly my kind of humor.
Within a year of the spill, Chief herself explored the unique ways that the Diné could be exposed to contaminants in the river, by surveying the communities. She found that her people use the river in more than 400 ways, including cultural, medicinal and spiritual practices, such as putting river clay on their face for prayers and collecting and crafting reeds for baskets. This survey illustrated the potential exposure pathways for Navajo community members not captured in the recreational risk assessment.
Ill-applied science can wield some hideous blinders sometimes. Question is, is it intentional?
The ranked-choice process was slow; you should have seen all the mad-face emoji on the New Mexican's Facebook live video feed last night. If you squinted, it looked for all the world like someone was throwing oranges across the room.
What do you need to know in the face of all this crowing? The winner of any contest needed to have over 50%. In the first 'round' - the straight-up conventional election - Webber got 39% of the vote. After the fourth round of eliminations (each round eliminates the lowest-scoring candidate), he had 66%.
Time will tell whether this is truly the voice of the people. It certainly points to interesting downticket strategies for the parties. Some didn't like the system, and allegedly only wrote in single vote choices. I wonder how that ranked-vote-suspicion played out across constituencies.
My rotating chimney cap is squeaking. Sounds like I've got a canary that will simply not shut up on the roof. Echoes down the flu, right into the closet outside my office. It's driving me nuts. Winds are too gusty to get up there and lube it safely.
So, if I start to unhinge later, you'll know why.