FARM REPORT - ARMY SGT. FIRST CLASS LEROY A. PETRY

The city of Santa Fe goes all out when it comes to protecting and promoting the welfare and well being of it's youth. Children and education are tops among the many charitable institutions in the City Different. The Boys and Girls Clubs is a place where any kid in Santa Fe can feel safe and protected.

The Boys and Girls Clubs of Santa Fe held their annual Christmas Gala at Bishops Lodge on December 21. I was so privileged to be able to attend this event for such a worthy Santa Fe cause. Bishops Lodge is a breathtaking venue just a few minutes from the downtown plaza. A resort and spa, it is named for French missionary priest Jean Baptiste Lamy, the first Archbishop of Santa Fe. The property consists of buildings nestled in a hilltop. At Christmas the pink hued adobe at dusk topped with traditional iluminaria is an awe inspiring sight.
The celebration was all about the children of Santa Fe. There was the inevitable appearance of Santa and his place of honor giving out toys and bags of delicious candy. This is Santa's season and if he decides to make the party you can bet all attention is generally on him, this year the most important person in the room was Congressional Medal of Honor winner Army Sgt. 1st Class Leroy A. Petry.

Sgt. Petry, an alumnus of the Boys and Girls clubs of Santa Fe is the City Different's very own hometown hero. While in Afghanistan Sgt. Petry lost his hand in a heroic grenade incident. He now sports an amazing bionic hand which I was privileged to shake. The feel of his hand is a touch I will never forget.

Afghanistan is a word to most of us. Of course if you have a loved one in the military you are more intimately acquainted with events in that far away country but I would venture to guess many people would be hard pressed to find it on a map and only associate it with newspaper headlines and a CNN crawler. Sgt. Petry makes it real. A handsome and devoted family man, its hard to imagine the smiling face
that I see tonight with the pain, terror and trauma he and his family have endured.
He wears a dark blue uniform jacket covered with honors and medals. The Purple Heart hangs closely about his neck. So obviously a hero.

When I met Sgt. Petry I saw the future of New Mexico. Something very genuine and caring exudes from him. There is a special aura about him that is evident to anyone who approaches him. I saw a man of intense integrity and honesty. A man who cares deeply about his family, his state, and his country. The ball room of Bishops Lodge was decorated in the rich red hues of Chistmas. There were political dignitaries and contributors everywhere you looked and the dinner was scrumptious.

I sat with Sgt Petry's family and they told stories of a brother whom they obviously admire. They spoke of his sense of humor and his bravery. His mother's eyes as he received his Senate Proclamation were full of the pride of a mother, a look that is without question something every mother wants to have looking at her son.

Sculptor George Rivera, Pojoaque Pueblo Governor, is donating his time to create an interactive eight foot bronze of Sgt Petry that will eventually stand in Santa Fe.
It was a night of inspiration, pride, mariachis, and interesting people. I even got sit on Santa's lap!

THANKSGIVING FARM REPORT

I spent Thanksgiving in the anonymous atmosphere of a huge metropolis. The ability to walk through Times Square and be overwhelmed with the sensory perception of one's own skin with a million different colored lights reflected on the surface. The Godiva Store sells white chocolate covered strawberries in glittery paper cones while a street vendor hawks ten dollar handbags outside. This is the tasty essence of New York.

Broadway theatres, bistro chairs and tables in the middle of the street. You can have you photo taken with Mickey Mouse, Elmo, or a silver skinned Micheal Jackson. My eyes are overloaded with the eclectic beauty of it all. The artist in me wants to take the colors and embed them into my brain to be recreated later. Photos are useless; you must commit this scene to your memory and make the energy a part of your life.

A holiday star is suspended high overhead on an avenue of stores glittering with diamonds, five dollar pashmina scarves and LV knockoffs. I love New York. It is the Grand Canyon made of cement and steel. It is every imaginable type of food and dirty water hot dogs and pretzels on the street. Carmines for Italian, Rue 57 for French, and Virgil's BBQ and a seats at Ruby Foos for uptown Chinese that is so worth the wait!

Music is everywhere. The Carlyle, Smoke, Dizzy's Club Coca Cola at Lincoln Center or the steps of any subway station. I hear the music I love lit by a million glittering lights all over this amazing city. My rooms are on the 53rd floor on 57th. Across the street is new construction...this building will be 98 stories when it is done. I can look out my bedroom and see the work in progress. It will be fun to measure how much higher this new face of the canyon wall will be when I make my next appearance. I feel suspended in space. At dusk the lights begin to appear out of nowhere and below me, the turquoise waves of a roof top swimming pool are illuminated reminding me of the City Different. Morning finds me having a spinach and Swiss omelet at La Parisiene,meetings to feel out the William Morris Agency and a cab ride to see Alfred Stiegliz at MOMA.

Santa Fe has followed me here, just to subtly remind me of where I "LIVE WORK and PLAY". Over a dirty martini at Trattoria Dell Arte across the street from Carnegie Hall I meet the vibrant and beautiful Marguerite La Corte, Global Trend Tracker and Product Anthropologist. She tells me her Santa Fe story. In the City Different she purchased an Indian Corn Necklace. Enthralled with the vibrant colors of the corn, she lovingly transported this distinct local favorite home and stored it in her jewelry box amid her Cartier and Tiffany treasures. When it was time for the Corn Necklace to make it's New York debut, she discovered the necklace had deposited worms that were now living amid the diamonds. Taking her new inhabitants in stride she laughed, "...just goes to show you, don't wear food, wear diamonds...!"

In Princeton I am invited to a private concert. Among an elite gathering of Jazz enthusiasts, in the comfort of an absolutely awesome home filled with contemporary art, rare books, sculpture and an incredible jazz trio playing the music I love, I met Dr. Ferris Olin. Dr Olin is the director of the Institute for Women & Art at Rutgers University. When she found out where I LIVE WORK and PLAY, she lost no time in chatting me up about her daughter who is the bartender at the Rouge Cat. She has been coming to Santa Fe for years. It seems there is a fabulous house guest in my future!

Lunch with my Facebook Bestie, a professor of Egyptian History who lives in Bonn Germany. She is in New York with her charming 2 year old daughter doing some work at the Metropolitan Museum of Art. On turkey day I am with my children. We cook everything even remotely associated with Thanksgiving and pass out comatose with food overload! Let me not forget a casual and flavorful dinner with my editor Stasia de Marco. She is half of one of Philadelphia's power couples and treated me to a great fish dinner freshly caught on Thanksgiving Day. Sixteen days of east coast wonder with a bit of Santa Fe flavor sprinkled throughout.

FARM REPORT...POLITICAL PROTEST

Political protest is one of the oldest ways for people of any country to come together and express disagreement with government policies and programs. Since the civil rights movement and the Vietnam War, there have been a few small grown swells of protest. Notice civil protest has once again come to light. This time in the face of growing economic dissatisfaction with the legislative branch of the government and corporate structure of the American economic system. The people are poised to directly change the economic policy.
From the early 16th century Protestant Rebellion to the French and American Revolutions, there have been times when oppressive governmental decisions have become too much for the populace to bear.
Picket signs are something not been seen in America for a long time. Whether it be due to ambivalence on the part of Americans comfortable with their lifestyle or glued to reality TV, this basic American tradition has been asleep.
The Wall Street protests against corporate greed and over zealous police intervention that affect the economic base of the country has inspired national action and attention. Starting with college students, as is traditional in America, this protest resulted in the arrest of 700 people on the Brooklyn Bridge. Americans are frustrated knowing corporate America continues to bonus itself while oppresive tax policies close small businesses and multi national super banks refuse to lend a hand to help everyday Americans keep their homes and lifestyles intact. Political protest rallies are being held in Philadelphia, San Francisco and Santa Fe.

We are a country whose roots remain deeply and firmly tied to helping not the individual but the whole. This is start of the 2012 political conversation.

FARM REPORT SPECIAL EDITION - OPENING OF THE MARTIN LUTHER KING MEMORIAL

The dream of a little girl...wide eyes, holding her fathers hand.
Days spent gazing from plane windows, train windows, car windows and apartments in strange lands, the dream always there, itching to be brought forward. Agitating to be as free as a bird who flies.
What is this concept of freedom? It means much to different people. I have found to the Shuswap and other tribes of Canada it means freedom to keep their ancestral lands from developers who would claim it for the gods of oil, and freedom to remain a sovereign nation honoring the words spoken to them, not words written later by forien governments.
To Native American people it means freedom to live on thier land and teach and preserve their art and culture for future generations. To never forget who they are.

To African Americans it means equality and acceptance in a place they were forced to come to, build, and maintain but were denied a seat at the decision making table. Even now African Americans are challenged by those who feel ownership to a country they do not own.
My personal dream...to be sheltered by love and peace. Able to be creative, believed in and supported by that love.
These are dreams I believe all people hold close ...love, honor, respect, communication, great meals, fantastic friends. and freedom from stress. This is what true wealth is.
Over the past week I had the distinct opportunity to return to my home, my native land, and spend time with my tribe for a special celebration of these core values that I hold dear. The opening of the Martin Luther King Memorial in Washington DC.

A memorial to one mans search to identify and restore basic human freedom for all people.In his own words"..if we are to have peace on earth, our loyalties must become ecumenical rather than sectional. Our loyalties must transcend our race, our tribe, our class, and our nation; this means we must develop a world perspective..."

From his educational and fraternal roots to the Nobel prize his was a life lead as a testament to the values of love, honor, respect, and communication.
A man who never denied who he was, glorified his cultural roots and shaped them into something special for the good of all people.
I dream to hold my head high, unable and unwilling to deny my heritage, honor my ancestors who traversed the rages of hatred and hell and dared to dream of a life where I am possible.

"...the ultimate measure of a man is not where he stands in moments of comfort and convenience, but where he stands at times of challenge and controversy..."

I dream to live my life with integrity and honor as my father taught me and to impart this to my children no matter how difficult that teaching may be.
In my life I have been to my personal mountain top. I have been to the Lincoln Memorial, I heard a man say " I have a dream", seen evolution continue to manifest that dream. I watched mesmerized as he accepted the Nobel Prize for Peace. I stood outside Ebenezer Baptist Church holding my fathers hand as his body was taken to its final rest, simply...on the back of a wagon drawn by mules.
Now I have stood holding my child's hand and looked at this lasting monument to a unique and special human being.
"...out of a mountain of despair...a stone of hope..."

SEPT..2011

FARM REPORT - REALITIES OF A WRITERS LIFE

A new chapter is always a challenge. What will my characters do? Who is the center of attention in this scene? Who will they love? Who will they hate? As the writer it is all up to me to decide but there are times when those pesky characters take matters into their own hands. They do as they wish and ask no one for permission least of all me. Creating all types of havoc looking to me to get them out of their dilemmas. Wrecking cars and lives willy nilly all over the place. My women make the worst choices in men giving them fodder for their tears. My men make the worst choices in women yet they remain strong and resilent and never shed even one tear. My characters happy days are romantic and wonderful,their arguments passionate and intense. The water of life rolls down the walls of their lives as it does ones own, sometimes rushing headlong and out of control or meandering lazy and slow. My writing is an exercise in observation of the intangible world. The inner workings of the universe explained syllable by syllable, vowel by vowel, and ever present adjectives to spice up the mix. If it were up to me I would never stray from the comfort of my computer and my words, creating a perfectly imperfectly world, stocking it with interesting eclectic beings. Worldly duties like rent and utilities are now beckoning me with a sly knowing smile to let me know reality really bites. So my self made universe will have to wait, it's back to the foot farm.

FARM REPORT...LEGENDS OF SANTA FE

In Santa Fe on Lincoln Street stands a gallery called simply Legends. This amazing gallery is a labor of love of two women who clearly stand out in their thinking and their execution of this gallery. Legends is a partnership between the gallery and emerging artists of the area, both Native American and traditional. It was opened by Lauren May in 2007. With no background in art Lauren took a risk. Her love of Native American art brought her to Santa Fe and her passion evolved into Legends Gallery. Artists who were not able to show at Indian Market now had a place show. Since its inception this gallery has hosted many local artists giving them a high profile venue to showcase their art. In 2009 Lauren’s daughter Leslie came to Legends to run the gallery and insure Lauren’s original vision remained true to the advancement of the Native Artists of the area. Leslie and Lauren are a close successful mother daughter team. What makes the gallery work says Leslie is the “trust factor” between mother and daughter. Works of Nocona Burgess great great grandson of Comanche chief Quanhah Parker exhibiting the strong faces of the proud Comanche people are now on exhibit. Exquisite color and interpretation of the natural world can be seen in the work of Karen Algeren. Frank Buffalo Hyde breaks boundaries and mixes the traditional with the contemporary in an unusual and beautiful way. A partnership with the Heard Museum of Phoenix Arizona will bring Andrea Hanley of the Berlin Gallery to curate a new show for Legends. Part of the proceeds for this sale will go to the Heard, which houses one of the most extensive collections of Native American and other tribal art. Leslie says “Legends exhibits a distinct and different point of view” These forward thinking ladies are continuing the tradition of advancing the Native American artists of Santa Fe.

I met Patricia French one evening at the Lensic Theatre, I knew she was a special lady. Pat French championed historical recognition of women in the State of New Mexico. In her travels around the state she noticed of the 500 historical markers in New Mexico only one recognized the accomplishments of women. Working with the Mexico Historic Women's Marker Initiative in 2005, she helped raised over $300,000 to recognize the accomplishments of women and erect 66 markers across the state honoring the women of New Mexico. She told me "New Mexico is a place without barriers for women". Her words gave me the personal encouragement to try new things on my journey and be fearless. Pat French came to Santa Fe from New York. She was an early childhood teacher; the school she founded in Brooklyn is still in existence today. As a realtor in Santa Fe for over twenty years, her agency French and French Fine Properties in association with her husband Michael grew, as did her love for the City Different In her capacity as the head of the firms marketing and public relations, her insight into the future lead to the creation of SantaFe.com. When deciding to step down from the website she said she knew she was not the final owner. "You don't own anything in this life...you are a steward" In keeping with her philosophy "There is no society unless you bring it!" Pat co-founded Dollars4Schools. Administered in partnership with the Santa Fe Community Foundation, Dollars4Schools raises money through direct giving to benefit specific classroom needs for Santa Fe public school children. Having tea one morning with Pat French was a pleasure for me, this Renaissance lady sparked my ideas, my courage and my vision. Thanks Pat!

FARM REPORT

I am going through a personal Renaissance. In this journey I came to Santa Fe. A place where this concept is a part of many women's' lives. Acknowledging the talent and creativity of some amazing women is the focus of my blog this summer. Looking at the Renaissance historically, one finds an overall rebirth of culture, thinking, art and science. Santa Fe has given me the opportunity to explore all of these avenues of self expression. To make significant contributions to myself, my children, the community and the world. I am especially grateful and blessed to have been able to be in the company of some special ladies. Women who have embraced changes in their lives and have given back to the community and the world fresh new ideas sprinkled with grace and style. In this time of economic challenges it is refreshing to see women looking at the needs of community, taking a hands on approach and finding new solutions. Now is the perfect time for dynamic new ideas. Ideas to push the City Different to the pinnacle of art, culture, and change for a new era.
So Santa Fe, I would like to introduce you to a few women I have had the privilege to meet. I know you will find them as inspiring and beautiful as I have.

FARM REPORT

Music evolves and will until time runs out. It shifts through passages, moments, and crevices in your life. As was written and recorded by Quincy Jones, "everything must change". No fear because of the changes that occur in your life, what you must do is embrace them. No one love is like the last love. Look into your new loves eyes and open your mind to something different.
Fortune has let me listen to and know music and art on many different levels, jazz, soul, R&B, hip-hop, gospel and even lately some bluegrass. Renaissance, impressionist, modern and classical painting and sculpture. I find it all connected. The Last Poets were the rappers of their time and Bessie Smith recorded sweet soul music. The call and response of the chain gang is the formula for that motown sound. Drum calls influenced Elvin and Art. Classic Greek sculpture is obvious in Edmonia Lewis work and the fauvist color and shapes of Matisse and the lines of Modigliani give me more inspiration and instruction every day. DH Lawrence was arrested for the erotic love he wrote about, I can write of love as I wish.
This stream of art, music, and lyrics has shaped me. Though some call me a dreamer, I know it is the music of my soul they may not be able to hear. I have heard the best and that ability to hear is what makes me beautiful.

sculpture by Linda Hayden

Simplify our complicated love lives | KOB.com

Simplify our complicated love lives KOB.com

Our manager stops by Good Day New Mexico to talk about her new book WHAT PASSES FOR LOVE

FARM REPORT

Having girl friends is the best. Your girl friends can tell you off over a bottle of Gnarly Head California Cab and you will hug them for it. Your girl friend can tell you what you should do with a man who is giving you the blues and you will totally listen....you may not comply, but you will listen. Its a girl thing. Have a table full of food laced with hot spicy green chilies stay up til 3 in the morning crying on each others shoulders. Its a good thing. Its a girl thing. My life would not be the same without my girl friends. Trust me when I say I LOVE the presence of the man in my life. Love the feel of his arms around me and his lips all over my body...however, there is something about the company of my girls that is like a warm loaf of bread. Ladies...never underestimate the power of having your girls. Never underestimate the power of a good time exchanging ideas and feelings with like minded females. Embrace each other, give each other the strength and the wisdom of your combined experiences. Teach your daughters to do the same.

FARM REPORT

One day in May love saved me
Gave me the freedom to pursue a perfect love
We are perfection and the personification of imperfection
Let the world slip away
All the people and all the opinions of our beautiful imperfection slip away
Stand naked in the rain… our love and no ones words
Have I have inspired you to write a song
Then my imperfect love will have been made perfect
You saved me from the oubliette of my life

I was your gift whole and imperfect

Alone In a new cell of your making living on this remote mountain of pain
Arrives success…
Save me from the aloneness of such success
It is an empty reward….all for naught
Give me failure with you to love me
Never would I chose to live from under your shadow

Years have passed since I sang loves song ..pure and inspired
A song only my beloveds’ ears could hear from me to him and him to me
My beloved who cared only for the sweetness of our imperfect love
The song died but love did not

Love save me from your ears never hearing our song again
Save me from the death of loves' song yet again
We have torn each other to shreds and hurt ourselves to please others
Had no one told us we were wrong we would still think our love was right

Passion scared us…when all we needed from each other was the divinely ordered love that arrived One day in May

FARM REPORT

Down on the farm we know how hard it is to land a job in this tough economy. Looking for a job? Your feet will take you there and bring you back. Interviews are stressful and we cannot be more serious when we say those toes are a most important asset. What potential employer could resist you when you have taken the time and thought to select the most incredible red peep toe shoes to show up in. Our manager is so very proud of our friend Amy who knows how get the job!

Book Details

Book Details

PRACTICE MAKES PERFECT

PRACTICE

Chords upon chords repeated

Pieces of melodies perfected daily nightly hourly

Each note more amazing this time than the last

Never tiring of hearing those pieces of melodies

Learned bit by bit

Practice

Wrapped into a brown velvet couch I sip gin and tonic

Learning the liturgy of the music

Notes proven through time to move the heart

Words ordinary people cannot say

Learned bit by bit

Practice

How long we can do this

The landlord says only til 10:30

Always can go later..never wanting to stop

The quest for the perfect note

In the perfect order

FARM REPORT

I made a turn off of Highway 84 through an archway reading “Ghost Ranch”. Driving down the dirt road, the landscape enveloped me, colors dazzled me, and the quiet peacefulness overwhelmed me.
There was a girl on a ladder picking apples from the trees just past the welcome center. She offered me some and I came away with my white sweater full of little sweet apples that turned into the best apple cobbler I have ever made. She never told me her name but casually said to me, “they have jobs here.” I tucked this information into the back of my head and continued with my day.
Returning to New Jersey, I began to correspond with Debbie Manzanares about the possibilities of a position at the ranch. I was taking care of my mother. She was terminally ill and my life revolved around her care.
As an artist and writer the visions of Ghost Ranch were ever present in my mind. Many people visit this area to learn about Georgia O’Keeffe, when I came here it was the mountains that drew me. Somehow I just knew I needed to spend some time here.
In January of 2010 I returned to the ranch to talk about a volunteer position and went to the top of the Pack Memorial Trail. I had begun learning all I could about the history of the ranch. Returning home after meeting with Debbie Manzanares and Marla Ulibarri I felt more of a connection than I thought possible to Ghost Ranch, but whether or not I was to return was in God’s hands.
My mother passed a few weeks after my second visit to the ranch. She made her transition from this life as I sat with my head on her chest holding her still warm hand. Seven minutes later my cell phone rang, it was Ghost Ranch on the other end of the phone offering me a position here as Hospitality Coordinator.
In my work here, many people ask me how I came to be here and most assume that as I am an artist it was Georgia O’Keeffe that brought me to Abiquiu; but it was not. It was the miracle of the place called Ghost Ranch. While here I have been able to heal from many painful issues in my life just by waking up and seeing what only God’s hands could have created.
My writing has exploded, my painting has evolved in new directions, and my heart has become happy again. This is a wondrous place, a blessed place. I have met world renowned theologians, artists and writers who have taught me much just by being in their space.
It is my prayer that Ghost Ranch will always remain to touch someone else’s life as profoundly as it has touched mine.