Nights when magical swaths of stars would span the entire ceiling above, making it seem as light as noon. Bright evening lightning shows burst through the dark evenings on the far horizon…
Let’s Go for a Walk, Mom!
Living in New Mexico in the early 1990s was one of the darkest times of my entire life. I was perpetually depressed, never once feeling like I had a single chance to make it as a sculptor, but trying my utmost to do so anyway, despite maybe having one or two sales a year.
When I first got to the ex-coal-mining town of Madrid (pron. MADrid), I stayed in an old miner’s house with my old friend, Melissa, helping her renovate it so it could be sold.
At the end of that adventure, I was told about an old empty fire-truck garage with five bays. I was able to rent the two bays on the far end from the main road for cheap. It was dank, musty, and not fit for human habitation. It stunk of mice and old dust. But I had nowhere else to go, so I made the best I could of it.
Each bay was 15’ x 40′. Huge warped doors that never closed all the way. Everything got in through them — bugs and spiders and small birds looking for a nesting home, a million mice, and rushing currents of ice-cold air. Continue reading →
