Caboose at Night

Currents 2010 Video Exhibition

Over the weekend, we twice attended the Currents 2010 Video Exhibition here in Santa Fe. Many of the installations were outstanding, and this free exhibit is an example of the vibrant contemporary art scene here.

This piece artfully and powerfully depicted the trauma and inhumanity of the Japanese internment camps during World War II.......

Some images were just visually stunning or captivating.....

This piece (for which this photo does no justice) involved headphones, beautiful music, and slow-motion video footage of an elephant gracefully swimming. The reflection of the elephant's image that you see in the photograph below is actually a shallow pool of water at the base of the video screen.......

A live audio-video performance on Saturday night was the capstone event of the exhibition....

And here's Mary playing with an innovative video installation that actually responds to movement in front of the screen.......

A Santa Fe Saturday.......

In an attempt to stay somewhat in travelers' mode in Santa Fe despite the fact that we're living here now (at least temporarily), we're still sometimes remembering to bring our camera and video camera when we go out on the town. Today was a day when having our cameras in tow was truly a blessing, so here are some videos and photos that convey some of the spontaneity and cheery summertime energy that permeate the city.

A group plays marimbas on the sidewalk near the famous Santa Fe Railyard.......

And a spontaneous dance breaks out right in the middle of the farmers' market....

A gifted and entertaining banjo player and singer plays to an appreciative crowd......

This water tower seems to be the symbol of the revitalized Santa Fe Railyard, which is a very human-scale plaza where shops, restaurants, the farmer's market, art galleries, museums, and the popular  commuter train to Albuquerque all converge. The Railyard is also the site of many outdoor summer events and concerts........

A human and canine water fountain.....

The balloon man.....

Of Life Off the Road

After so many months and miles, life off the road is, well, different. For myself, I'm remaining open to new experiences, exploring life in the city, looking for work, and settling into our sweet abode here at The Commons on the Alameda, even as I admittedly struggle with the sudden life change that we've clearly needed---and chosen.

In terms of our living situation, there's a lot of good to report. As I remarked a few days ago, cohousing is indeed designed to promote social interaction with neighbors, and there are so many scenarios in which we chat with passersby and engage in conversation on a very regular basis. On Mondays and Thursdays, there is a community dinner which is a convenient and affordable way to break bread with neighbors and share conversation over food prepared by a different community "chef" each time. A menu is posted on the bulletin board in the common house several days prior, and you simply check off your name and, voila, you come to dinner and eat to your heart's content for $4, with containers of yummy leftovers for $1. 

Children are a major force here at The Commons, and these lucky kids have incredible freedom and safety amidst this pedestrian haven. There are toys and scooters and bikes everywhere, and kids climb trees, swing in hammocks, play in the playground, and generally have the run of the community from early morning until sunset. Parents here at The Commons have a childcare co-op, taking turns doing childcare for one another as a way to save money and provide the kids with consistent and beloved caregivers rather than outside baby-sitters. It's a brilliant arrangement that seems to keep everyone happy, especially the kids.

Tina is slowly adjusting to casita life, although she still gets incredibly anxious when we leave her home alone. Kind neighbors and several young girls from the community are helping us when we need to leave her for longer stretches, and we hope and pray that Tina will be happier, calmer and more content as time goes on.

In the park just across from us, coyotes prowl the dry Santa Fe River at night, so kitty cats must indeed be kept indoors after dark. Someone also saw a rattlesnake there a few weeks ago, so even here in the city, there is wildlife to consider. And just next door, there's a small horse farm from which I am delighted to hear an occasional whinny floating on  the breeze, a sound that always brings me great pleasure.

Despite its diminutive adobe buildings and relatively small size, Santa Fe still feels like a city to me, and actually living in a city still takes some getting used to for this sensitive middle-aged guy who often felt overstimulated in Amherst, Massachusetts, a town of 25,000! Santa Fe is working hard at various aspects of sustainability, but it still seems to be lacking in the areas of  "smart growth", bicycle and pedestrian friendliness, and control of overwhelming traffic and automobile-related congestion. The city has a long way to go, in my humble opinion, but also has a lot going for it in terms of it's relatively small size, excellent galleries and shops, and easy access to nature (if, of course, you have a car!).

When it comes to work, over the next few days I will be interviewing for several local nursing jobs and examining ways to bring in some money beyond my various online writing gigs. Meanwhile, Mary has several exciting things cooking which I'll let her write about when she's ready to do so.

In terms of visitors, we've already entertained our son and daughter-in-law for an overnight pajama party, and look forward to them returning so that we can all go see Modest Mouse in concert on July 9th in celebration of our son's 27th birthday. And prior to that birthday extravaganza, Mary's Texan parents will pass through the city at the end of the month, and some dear friends from Washington, DC will be here to celebrate our 21st wedding anniversary with us on July 2nd.

While I miss some aspects of traveling and RV'ing (time in nature, so many beautiful places, the novelty of the road, new intentional communities to explore), I don't miss the rigors of maintaining the rig, emptying the waste tanks, and otherwise dealing with a 12,000 pound rolling beast. I still can't quite accept that we're not packing up and leaving some time soon, but also feel grateful for the respite and peace of mind that having a "landed" life brings.

This blog is admittedly an important way for me to remain connected with our trip, to continue the journey and examine my traveler's navel, so to speak. Whether we're rolling down the road to nowhere or are ensconced here in Santa Fe with a busy social calendar and new people to connect with everywhere we turn, it's still a wonderful life, and we are simply embracing a more solid and grounded milieu in which to thrive, for however long it lasts.

Signing off for the evening as darkness falls on our little corner of "The City Different"-----

Keith

Sweet Sweet Spreedom

This week we had the fortunate blessing of meeting an adventurous young couple---Ainsley and Karl---who are on a summer road trip with a mission.

Ainsley and Karl aren't just road-tripping---they're sinking their teeth into the real America, taking their time to get to know people, volunteer their time, search for community, and experience life far beyond the trappings of tourism and roadside attractions. They are members of their generation who believe that there's something good happening in the United States behind all of the bad news and propaganda, and they want to know what those good things are and communicate that to their disenchanted peers. 

Their blog, Sweet Sweet Spreedom, is as sweet as they are, and offers views of America and American culture through the eyes of two young people who are curiously making their way across the West with eyes and arms wide open. 

We were so happy to connect with these two special travelers, and we wish them the best as they continue to embrace the uncertainty and magic of the road. 

The Madrid Gypsy Festival

On Sunday, we attended the 8th annual Madrid Gypsy Festival. The nearby town of Madrid (accent on the first syllable with the "a" pronounced like the "a" in "apple", strangely enough) was described by one local as the place where "misfits, hippies, alternative people, dropouts and itinerants" hang out, but it's also a town where tourists flock in modest numbers for a plethora of art galleries, gift stores, and a taste of small-town New Mexico. Madrid has a history as a mining town and ghost town, and is indeed quite charming.

The Madrid Gypsy Festival has nothing to do with actual gypsies (much to Keith's dismay), and Keith actually questions the use of the term for a festival that doesn't truly honor the Roma culture from which it takes its name. Still, we understand the sentiment, but having a "gypsy festival" without Romani people is like holding a pow-wow without Native Americans. Be that as it may, a fun time was had by all, and there were so many friendly local people to talk to who invited us to a private after-party and welcomed us to the area.

Can you find Mary in one of the following photographs?

Shadow on Adobe

Blessings and Diesel

Only in New Mexico......

Adjusting and Acclimating

After one week here at The Commons on the Alameda cohousing community in Santa Fe, we are adjusting and acclimating to a life quite different from the one we've been living for the last seven months and 10,000 miles. Community life is so different from the relative isolation of the road, and living in a more urban environment is also quite a change for us.

For me personally, the adjustment has come as somewhat of a shock. Despite the fact that I've been deeply desirous of a feeling of rootedness---if only for a few months of respite from the road---actually landing and making the transition to a "sticks-and-bricks" (or fake adobe) home has certainly taken a little time.

Santa Fe is a lovely place, and it's the only capital city that I've ever visited in the United States that still has a number of dirt roads---and small farms---within the city limits. We've already discovered the plethora of health food stores (six at last count), an excellent bookstore where I plan to spend no money, some great thrift stores, and a favorite cafe where, unfortunately, dogs are not allowed on the patio. Santa Fe is said to be very dog-friendly in many ways, with a multitude of stores that welcome well-behaved dogs on leash, but city ordinances preclude dogs being anywhere near where food is served, so taking Tina cafe-hopping is not necessarily easy. Still, we know at least two places near the Plaza where dogs are accommodated, so we may frequent those establishments when we have Tina in tow.

In terms of adjusting, the relatively constant low hum of traffic and the occasional siren in the wee hours of the morning are something to get used to. Bicycling in Santa Fe is somewhat of a challenge---the city is not terribly bike-friendly, and some busy streets have no shoulders or bike lanes to speak of. There is one bike path in the city that's slated to be expanded in the next few years, but any commuting within the city definitely involves interacting with a lot of cars and trucks that don't necessarily slow down or make allowances for vulnerable two-wheeled vehicles.

Living in cohousing definitely makes up for our aforementioned social isolation. Cohousing communities are deliberately designed to be pedestrian villages where all of the homes face inward towards commonly held outdoor spaces, so interaction with neighbors is almost automatic. When we step outside our door, there are frequently children, adults, dogs and cats meandering the sidewalk that wanders between the homes, and smiles, chats and some more lengthy conversations frequently take place. Community meals on Mondays and Thursdays provide a sense of continuity and connection, and several community members are offering a creative workshop on Saturday morning that we both plan to attend.

Tina is slowly adjusting herself, but still gets very anxious when we leave her alone in our casita. We are slowly helping her get used to the idea, and have also secured several dog-sitters in the neighborhood. She seems quite content in the bigger picture, and it's hard to imagine taking the poor old girl back on the road. We hope she can enjoy this respite, however long it lasts, and then join us again when the time comes to move on.

Yesterday, a package was awaiting us on our front porch: a lovely plant sent by my thoughtful family who conspired together in order to grace our new home with a touch of beauty. We are so grateful to them for their thoughtfulness, and the flowers are happily ensconced on our kitchen table, brightening up the room and bringing the faces of beloved and far away family to mind every time we look at them.

Even though being in the city and leaving the open road has been difficult in some ways, there is also much comfort in stretching out in our casita, doing yoga and exercising right on our own carpet, and making meals without bumping into one another. We also have readily available chemical-free laundry facilities at our disposal, a commercial kitchen from which we can borrow any implements we might need, a shady courtyard next to a bubbling fountain where we can read and relax, and the community exercise room and living room. We're very grateful for this chance to live in community, and doubly grateful that folks here at The Commons have made this little neighborhood relatively safe for us in terms of our chemical sensitivity.

When it comes to activities, there is so much happening here in Santa Fe, and we actually need to pick and choose from an enormous variety of things to do. This weekend, we'll attend The Madrid Gypsy Festival in the nearby town of Madrid, and also meet with several new acquaintances for some food and conversation. The calendar is indeed filling up, and we're pleased that we're connecting with people and things to do so readily.

Meanwhile, I am looking for nursing work, applying for jobs, and working with my mind when it struggles with this recent radical lifestyle change. I'm trying to keep my "traveler's mind" intact, approaching our time here in the city as just another extension of our journey, even though there's a part of me that wonders if the journey is really over. Still, I know in my heart that the journey is indeed still in process, and whether we're in Santa Fe for two months or nine months, the adventure doesn't have to meet its demise just because our rig is parked and we're sleeping in a house that doesn't roll.

These last seven months have been amazing, and I feel that I've grown a great deal in the process. Leaving our home, friends, family, familiar haunts, New England and the East Coast was not easy---in fact, it was the hardest thing I've ever done. But 10,000 miles can change a person's outlook and sense of their own place in the world, and I feel that being in the West is an opportunity to redefine myself on many levels and jettison those things about myself that no longer serve. This adjustment period has been admittedly difficult, and I am still feeling some pangs and pains during the process. Still, I can't deny that a break from the road was in order, and we've landed in a safe place where we can stretch our legs, make new friends, have some fun, earn some money, and enjoy a sense of community for whatever amount of time feels right.

----Keith

A Sunday in Santa Fe

On our first Sunday in Santa Fe, we wandered down to the Santa Fe Plaza with our son and daughter-in-law to check in on a public "Monster Battle" being advertised by a local artist group called The Meow Wolf Collective. The monsters were in full regalia, and even Mary spontaneously joined in on the fun....

Next, a group of incredible break-dancers put on a spectacular show and we stood in amazement as they did their thing........

And on the way to the car, a religious procession was just beginning at the beautiful Catholic church on the Plaza, so we paused to observe and sing along as the procession made it's way through town.....

It was a day of vastly different cultural events taking place within several hours of one another, each one  centering on the Plaza that graces the center of old Santa Fe. As much as tourism can seem to dominate Santa Fe to a large extent (especially at this time of year), local culture still seems to hold it's own amidst the shops selling overpriced art and useless trinkets and souvenirs.

They do indeed call Santa Fe "The City Different", and over time it may become more clear why that moniker is apt. Meanwhile, we continue to and settle into our new abode and remain open to possibilities, serendipity, creativity and fun along the way.

After 9,936 Miles, The Dust Begins to Settle......

As I write this missive (our 300th blog post), the voices of happy neighbors singing folk songs and playing instruments on a nearby patio waft into our new sweet abode here at The Commons on the Alameda.

After 9,936 miles on the road, 30 intentional communities and 21 states (including Washington, DC), we are finally grounded at an intentional community that has drawn us back into its neighborly arms.

Our arrival to the Commons was made somewhat complicated by a water leak that precluded our moving in on the first of June, but today we were finally able to completely move in, make our bed, unpack our belongings, and reassure Tina that this house indeed has no wheels! (Our place is on the first floor in the photo below and does not include the rooftop terrace!)

Yesterday evening, a community dinner on the outdoor patio of the common house brought us quickly into the fold, and we are reveling in the company of the many children and dogs who populate the sidewalks of our quaint and safe pedestrian village on the outskirts of the city. And the little boy across the sidewalk even brought us fresh flowers and muffins this morning......

The realization that we are no longer on the road is still sinking in, and we may have to resist the common sensation of needing to move on when two or three days have elapsed and the gypsy winds begin to blow. In fact, we're not going anywhere any time soon, and it may take some time for this to be felt at our cores.

Our charming little casita is sweet and cozy---yet it's 600 square feet are veritably palatial to us---and we are living like college students with a futon on the floor and a kitchen table without chairs. Our kind neighbors and lovely landlords have offered various accoutrements to make us more comfortable, and bright yellow curtains can be drawn to separate the bedroom/living room from the kitchen area. A post-and-beam ceiling stands ten feet above our heads, and small skylights in the kitchen, bathroom and bedroom/living room bring in extra light throughout the day.

The rig sits lonely on the dead end street alongside the community near the river, and we're still not certain what we will do with it for the next few months. Safe storage and a good cleaning are in order, and those details will no doubt be ironed out over time.

Meanwhile, I apply for local nursing jobs, Mary does research for our home-based businesses, and we look forward to connecting with local friends, both new and old.

We do not see the adventure as being over. This is simply a part of the adventure, an opportunity to explore community more deeply, and give our weary bones (and dog) a rest from the rigors of the road and cramped rig living. There is much to be grateful for, much to reflect upon, and a great deal to explore here in Sante Fe and northern New Mexico.

This blog will indeed be kept alive as we dive into this new chapter of our lives. We hope to keep our "travelers' minds" intact and curious even as we cease to travel to the extent to which we're accustomed. We are rubbing our eyes to make sure that this new manifestation of our excellent adventure is real, and we may wake up tomorrow morning wondering exactly where we are. As Mary slips into sleep beside me, she says "Thankfully, we've arrived---you can quote me on that!"

Stay tuned for some timely reflections on the last seven months, some flashbacks and videos from days past, and observations on life in "The City Different" and at long last living in intentional community once again. Thanks for being here, thanks for your support and readership, and please come back to see us soon.

Blessings and love from the heart of community.

Delayed Gratification

If there's anything that seven months on the road has taught us, it's to expect the unexpected and go with the flow.

Yesterday, as we bid a fond adieu to our friends in Las Vegas, New Mexico, we joyfully prepared to drive the sixty miles to Santa Fe, buy some groceries, and move ourselves into our new home. Unfortunately, we received a phone call informing us that a burst pipe and subsequent flood had rendered our casita unlivable---at least for a few days---and we were thrown into an unexpected circumstance that had us considering many potential outcomes that we had not anticipated.

Since our previous home was discovered to be a mold pit (a situation which most likely caused us both to develop Multiple Chemical Sensitivity in the first place), we were dismayed to hear that our new home had suffered water damage, but were simultaneously encouraged to learn that the flooding was not too bad and had been caught very quickly. For now, dehumidifiers and fans are blowing as the water recedes, and we cross our fingers and trust that all will be well.

For the moment, we are encamped at a campground on the outskirts of Santa Fe, waiting a few days to make sure that the casita is still healthy for us, and digesting the fact that our original move-in date was scuttled.

We are all ready and excited to be rooted for a while, and this situation simply reminds us that our journey has been a veritable boot camp that has trained us to roll with the punches, expect the unexpected, remain as flexible as possible, and be grateful for our blessings every day. Despite our disappointment, there was no hurricane, no earthquake, no loss of life or limb, and our rolling home is still a cozy little nest that may feel diminutive, but it veritably remains home sweet mobile home.