Santa Fe, New Mexico is 7,260 feet above sea level. The vibrant blue sky surrounding it is made more so by white clouds hanging atop adobe buildings. The folks where I stayed strongly advised me about altitude sickness so I wore my hat and saw scads of others doing the same. The Georgia O'Keefe Museum was my first stop and afterwards I walked mostly on San Francisco Ave toward the Plaza and the St. Francis Cathedral wishing one day to live here.
At the Cowley County Historical Museum the gold medal crayola crayons are on display. Visiting there was part of a day of rest to visit family and shore up for the second half of the journey. It gave me a moment to go back in time to the art of my childhood and learn how Crayola's oily stick of color was made in 1903.
A friend made and lost through times shifting face reappeared today at the Kemper Museum of Contemporary Art. Deborah and I were college friends whose lives went different directions. Taking advantage of a window of time we met today for lunch and found that even the smallest memories were strong enough to tie up the ends of time that had unraveled between us. It was an odd and revelatory moment –a glass reflecting light and color between two artists whose sensibility toward beauty had not changed — a moment as though called out from the past to remind us of the strength of a girlhood bond.
I-35 is paved well, not like the gravel roads in Sparta. Good thing as the heat index must be a thousand degrees.
The fields I'm flying by are meant for grazing cattle who lie near wire fences that have wilted in this heat. I am so parched that I have succumb to the golden arches to stock up on ice and even a beverage.