I took a field trip to Albuquerque with my friend Deborah Rael-Buckley yesterday. She is a talented, award winning sculptor, and also a lot of fun to hang out with. We first delivered a piece to a collector, and then went to have a look at an enormous spec house that's scheduled to be in the Parade of Homes next weekend. The decorator wants Deborah to loan them a piece to set into a sweet little Juliet-style balcony that overlooks the front entrance to the house. Touring the house, which still needs some finishing touches and furniture, I was of course impressed by the, um, impressiveness of it, but mostly I was overwhelmed by the size. We stood in a room that's meant to be an office, with its own entrance leading out to a small waterfall, and all I could think was this room was about the size of the entire little Ikea house we're considering building at some point. Most boggling to my little human brain.
I did not come away with big house envy, or even wishing to move back into our own humble Taos house. It's like all things placed before me are there to support my feeling of contentment in my little trailer life. That could change as winter settles in, especially if we're in for the deep snow and bone-stinging cold. But that's all too far ahead to even ponder. We are here, and here we are.
Deborah and I spent the rest of the day hopping from Starbucks to Sephora to Trader Joes, and picking up some other pieces from a gallery in Santa Fe. My little beads are quite insignificant in that big art world, but I don't mind. I'll make them for love, and even for money, but recognition is no longer important. Hm. Funny to notice that. I used to be so caught up in being called an Artist. Phooey on all that now. I'm just a beadmaker. A darn good one, but I know my place.
The drive home, back along the Rio Grande, through Taos Canyon, was beautiful in the afternoon light and shadows. Late afternoons this week have brought potential thunder storms, and the cloud formations are even more grand than any house could ever hope to be. Lit from within, and rumbling in the distance, these are the things that can take my breath away. Keep the fancy houses. Small homes and big clouds suit me just fine.