The Sun Is Out

Brilliant Corners, 36" x 24", acrylic on canvas
private collection, Albuquerque

The New Mexico sun is gracing us today and my spirits are lifted. We've been having a snowier than average winter thanks to El Nino--great news for the anticipated spring runoff of the mountain snowpack into the rivers and reservoirs. This magical springtime flow replenishes our desert water supply. And, yes, the fallen snow in downtown Santa Fe is stunning...

St. Francis of Assisi Cathedral
photo courtesy Henry Lopez, The Santa Fe New Mexican

One of the reasons I live in Santa Fe, however, is our 325 days of sunshine per year. I need those brilliant shafts to shine into the darker corners of my house and soul. When those corners are warm, I have a place to go. I can lean against the wall, close my eyes, feel the sunshine on my eyelids, and know that underneath all this...


...an unseen light is forming this...


There are brilliant corners in the dead of winter. When I close my eyes, I see them.

Awaken me from this nightmare....please.

Dreamer, acrylic on canvas, 24" x 48"

private collection, Albuquerque

I must have exceeded my allowable technology celebration quotient (TCQ). Just as I was getting used to this dazzling new i-Mac with the 27-inch screen, the gallery i-Mac (with only 17 inches) began wearing its heart on its sleeve. Jealousy no doubt. Bennie called to tell me an odd arrangement of bars had begun stalking the cursor and icons. Turns out our video card is on its death bed and heroic efforts to revive would not be cost-effective. SO now we're making final arrangements--in lieu of flowers please send flash drives-- and shopping for another computer.

There's more. I went for coffee and came back to find my itty bitty i-Book, my oh-so-lovable hand-me-down from Flannery, was making asthmatic wheezing sounds, the cool-down fan whirring frantically. Turning it on its belly, popping out the battery and re-inserting it, calmed it temporarily--a kind of reverse shock treatment. The operative word in the last sentence is temporarily. The teeny-tiny laptop has now gone beyond the veil and reincarnated as a Dell. Shudder.

There's nothing like a technological setback, the frenzied backing-up of data, the ensuing selection of new software--decisions, decisions--to sap my urge to create. Or breathe.

Good news is: Despite downtown Santa Fe being its typically wintertime lackluster self, I have sold a couple of paintings--"Dreamer," pictured above, and this one, which you've seen...

A Good Omen, 24" x 36"
private collection, Arlington, Virginia

Here's hoping that's a good omen. Couldn't we all use one of those?