It’s a bit difficult to see how creative process comes together. Isabel and I went to torah study group last week, had lunch, and walked the acequia trail.
If I’d been alone, I wouldn’t have been photographing. I find that no person’s land soth of my house to be mysterious, a bit threatening, even after all these years.
It’s a profoundly in-between place, even with the Railyard development.
I don’t think this neighborhood will ever be anything other than slightly shabby and always charming.
My affection for it has been one of the great sustaining things in my life.
Isabel recently gave me a lesson on her camera. We walked around the ranch–I shot these. It’s hard to photograph New Mexico…so familiar, so documented…
These are not edited, as I don’t know how to do that (yet?). I find the editing process obscure–somehow I feel it must be different than writing. Secretly, I hate to edit.
Can you see the familiar freshly? Make art from things you might be so intimate with they are barely observable?
What is maternal mitochondria? It’s genetic material–probably non-human–that allows cells to metabolize energy. There are 7 types–the 7 mothers from whom we are all descended, after differentiating from our common African ancestress, the original Eve.
My daughter Isabel swabbed the inside of her cheek some years ago and sent the sample to National Geographic. We share the most common form in Europe.
And it makes a great name for our ongoing mother-daughter collaboration in the arts! 2017 is our designated work year. One of our first projects was to figure out geocaching, so we could hypothetically geocache some poetry.
Here we are, starting off befuddled in the Railyard, only to…voila…find a tiny something hidden in a tree:
And this, too…
The project seems more doable after this experiential research.
Since Donald Trump’s election, we’ve also added on a more community based element to our self-education. So far, we’ve been to synagogue, non-violent training, and are headed to a city counselors meeting. More as it develops!
hey morning glory–
why do you still greet
Photography by Matt Morrow
Haiku by Miriam Sagan