“Fall”  by Yatika Fields    2015  oil   Blue Rain Gallery, Santa Fe    505.954.9902

For almost thirty years I traveled as a married woman.  I wore my rings and felt “taken.”  I always furtively looked at the left hands of those around me to see if they wore a ring too.  I found it interesting that more often than not, the in-your-face sexy older women (over 40) were often those in the “no-ring” category.  With very rare exceptions, they dyed their hair.  They are hot.  The married older women were often not so purposefully attractive.  Many married older women are physically beautiful (thus the married status, no?) but usually don’t intentionally rise to the “hot” market unless they are famous.  There’s a difference.  Now, I find myself one of these older woman with no ring.  But, I am not hot.  I’m not over weight, I’m not ugly, I’m not lame, and I cut off my dyed hair and am growing my gray out.  I am a willfully poised forty-nine-year-old woman who doesn’t have a clue where her life is going.  I don’t know how to be unmarried.  Should I look down as I often did as a married woman because it’s not “proper” to give the idea you might be “looking” like an unmarried woman would?  Do I keep a longing expression on my face as one lost (as I feel) or do I stand tall and walk with a sure step like someone who knows who she is when I really don’t?  I am friendly with everyone, but scared out of my wits.  Are there any other single older women out there that struggle with the simple exercise of walking in public?  Am I a freak?

My in-laws love me.  Their son cut loose, but I still hold the hearts of his parents.  I think they saw more than he did…  Anyway, they paid for my trip to Santa Fe, New Mexico this last week.  They thought it would do me good to spend time away with my middle daughter who is tragically similar to me and experiencing a comparable collapse of her psyche.  Obviously, there are differences between she and I, and her father leaving plays only a small part in her turmoil, but insecurity effects twin hearts equally.  We learned a lot about each other.  We were never apart as we enjoyed three days of the culture and artistry that makes Santa Fe such a draw for travelers worldwide.  She saw me with new eyes.  I am just as frightened as she is.   She held my hand at just the right times.  But, I will not allow her to end up like me.  I didn’t have a mother at her age.

We  traveled to Santa Fe to have a “break,” but we did not do all that we had hoped to accomplish.  There is a respectable art school in Santa Fe which we failed to visit.  My daughter is purely endowed with the raw talent my biological mother had.  I inherited some of it too, but nobody took much notice of it while I was growing up.  Artists need backers.  I have continually encouraged her to cultivate and perfect that inborn skill to convey in two dimensions what she sees through her remarkable eyes.  She can draw with mastery at seventeen.  Yet, she is a fragile soul.  I looked for turquoise in Santa Fe to wear as an amulet for strength.  I would have shared it with her.  Unfortunately, I couldn’t afford anything more than a very small piece and that defeats the purpose.  Turquoise is meant to be worn BIG.  Hopefully someday I will go back and come home with the real deal.

Artists are so often delicate.  They need help.  They need to be supported instead of relied on for support.  They can so eagerly give up their artistic soul, so if they are not seen for what they are, it can be utterly wasted.  They may sacrifice their creative life if they face criticism, or think they need to help someone else succeed.  They will slowly perish if someone doesn’t help them believe in their future as a creative, in their obligation as an artist.  Artists need to believe in who they are.  Great artists need great visionaries.  They need those who are willing to sacrifice what ever it takes for the artist to take flight.  The artist may leave all they know behind.  That is the tragedy before the start.  Someone who is afraid to lose the artist that they found may unwittingly destroy the creative soul that they loved…

This post was meant to be about my experiences in Santa Fe.  I tend to wander off course…  This blog is about my growth and readjustment.  It’s about learning to choose and to be sure about choices.  When one travels, one learns to be confident about what really is most important at the moment.  Making choices while traveling is the same as making choices while determining to live.

Santa Fe…  This was my second time visiting Santa Fe, New Mexico.  My father-in-law gave me plenty of cash to buy meals, so my palate was spoiled rotten.  The lentil-coconut soup at Raaga Indian Cuisine was by far the best soup I have ever tasted in my life.  I managed to buy relatively inexpensive items for myself and my kids, but if I could have, I would have purchased the painting by Yatika Fields titled, “FALL” (see above).  With its $9,500 price tag, I had to put it off for another lifetime.  What an amazing painting!  If I had that painting to feast my eyes upon every day, I think I would be infused with an energy that would drive me to succeed at everything I set my mind to do.  He’s a young artist, and he was raised by artist parents and encouraged from his youth.  His website wasn’t working that great when I checked, but that particular painting wasn’t listed anyway.  It’s his very finest as far as I’m concerned.  I highly recommend everyone to look him up.

The Plaza in downtown Santa Fe is pretty fun to walk around in.  It feels good to absorb your contribution to the space.  There are wonderful shops and eateries just waiting for you to venture in.  One long walkway is lively with native vendors hawking goods to tourists who are basically unaware of what their wares are truly worth.  You can look at it two ways.  I tend to look at it one way.  If I can afford it, I buy it.  If it rings my bell, that is.  This time around I didn’t buy anything from these street vendors, but the last time I was there, I did.  I still love the lapis lazuli ring I bought several years ago.  I even buy clothing that will work with it so I can wear it as much as possible.

Walking the streets of a city without an arm to hold on to was strange, even difficult.  I really miss walking arm in arm with my escort.  My daughter filled in as she could, but there is something to be said about the arm of a man.  It just makes you feel like you are special.  You are “taken” and you belong.  I really need to get over that…

The air in Santa Fe makes my lungs burn a bit.  I am a fast walker, but in Santa Fe I have to slow down.  The air is clear and full of energy.  I feel young when I’m not thinking about how old I am.

We walked the gallery route off Alameda and bought a couple prints from a local artist.  He was a nice native with an honest manner and gave me a free magnet for buying two prints.  I have a stainless steel fridge so I’ll have to give it as a gift to someone…  Apparently his ex-wife had her own gallery two doors up and I, lacking tact as usual, asked why couldn’t two artists stay together?  Immediately, I was sorry for my blunder and he defended himself by saying they were married fourteen years.  I said mine lasted twenty-seven, just barely and possibly not, audible.  Sheesh…

Walking through the many galleries really encouraged me to believe I can produce creatively.  These artists are putting themselves out there.  Fearlessly.  My daughter felt the same way.  She was excited to get back home and get to work.  All those artists were saying, “This is what I create!”  What stops me from being brave like that?   “You can’t make money as an artist,” was a constant echo through the years.  Since I need money to survive, then art must be put aside for a more practical pursuit, right?  But does it really?  Now I am in a position to give it my best shot.  I can write, I can draw and paint on the days I’m not working, and I will prove to myself who and what I am.  Now, I just have to figure out how to get my art up on this blog…  I was lucky to have the few pieces posted here on CD’s, but nothing else is where I can transfer it.  Every day I see how this blog will help me realize and become who I am meant to be.  I am accountable to produce.   If a trip to Santa Fe gets me motivated and excited about moving forward, then I need to travel more often.