Taos, shadows, prism, rainbow. It’s where we live, well a little farther north and under normal circumstances we’d go to Taos two or three times a week, sometimes more. This is the end of week three spent at home. We’ve been to the store twice during that time, and made a couple of solitary drives out to photograph. We made a few trips to the Rio Grande Gorge, to stand on the rim and let the wind blow the cobwebs away. Spending this time at home, allows me to dig into projects that I’ve put on the back burner. I might get to really like it. In the country, we do solitary well, social distancing is three acres. How about you? What are you doing? I hope everyone is safe and staying healthy. Thanks for looking. G
Texture, Corbels, Vigas, and Shadows, Kit Carson Road, Taos, NM. There’s plenty of this kind of thing around New Mexico, and especially in the northern half of the state. Perhaps a new tagline for this part of the state might be “the land of long shadows”. At this time of year “golden” or “magic” hour lasts longer than most places, and art history in the area reaches back long before Europeans landed. Thanks for looking. G
Adobe light, late fall along the roadside in Questa, New Mexico. The many benefits of traveling over the same territory, whether on a photo tour or personal outing, allows me to see the subtle changes that occur season by season or day by day. This evening, I decided to return over the next few of days to watch the light shift hourly on this adobe. I’ll see what I come up with. Questa, New Mexico exudes cultural authenticity. Thanks for looking. G
Mesa light rays breaking through. The landscape is actually a plateau but locally we all refer to it as “the mesa”. When I was driving home a few weeks ago, I just had to pull over for this one and to watch the show. Believe it or not, there is lightning in the bright spot center right. I was reviewing images today and came across this one, so I thought it time for a dramatic landscape photo. Thanks for looking. G
Mesa light ray across the Taos Plateau, New Mexico. Living twenty minutes out of town has it’s advantages. It’s always a stunning drive home heading north out of Taos to San Cristobal. We live in close contact with nature, the elements and the outdoors. It constantly impacts every day, for which I am very grateful. Thanks for looking. G
Dwelling, Acoma Pueblo, New Mexico. Renovation in progress! I first saw this building totally gutted with debris from the demolition filling the shell. A year later the walls are structurally sound and the vigas are in place awaiting a roof. The occupant will get to see for miles out that window, as indeed we did when standing on the mesa top at the Pueblo. One item of note… I like the way they have interspersed the round vigas with square beams. A nice touch. If you haven’t visited Acoma Pueblo, I recommend a visit there, more than once. Thanks for looking. G
San Rafael, La Cueva, New Mexico. Shadows in the light of darkness. We had some good fortune last week while on a photo tour Easter Sunday in La Cueva, NM at the church of San Rafael when a lady pulled up and parked in our shot. Before we had time to get upset and complain, she was already out of her truck and inviting us to see the interior of the church. It turned out to be a fitting moment. The day was forehead reddening hot outside. Inside, the welcoming, cool moistness was palpable. The light through the windows cast shadows on the deep adobe walls. The moment, lasting about ten minutes was a poignant respite for me and my guests from Minnesota. We reflected on the continual fight between light and darkness, at least when religion is involved, before we moved on to the next location. Thanks for looking. G
Winter evening and sunset in the San Cristobal valley. My twenty minute commute from Taos to home is not really anything like a commute, with stop and go traffic, more a delightful way to spend the time listening to some tunes on the iPod and take in the ever changing winter evening light on the landscape. During those twenty minutes there is always time to stop and stare and make an image, if only for the record that implants it in memory. A poem below. Thanks for looking. G
What is this life if, full of care,
We have no time to stand and stare.
No time to stand beneath the boughs
And stare as long as sheep or cows.
No time to see, when woods we pass,
Where squirrels hide their nuts in grass.
No time to see, in broad daylight,
Streams full of stars, like skies at night.
No time to turn at Beauty’s glance,
And watch her feet, how they can dance.
No time to wait till her mouth can
Enrich that smile her eyes began.
A poor life this is if, full of care,
We have no time to stand and stare.
William Henry Davies
Exquisite demise of an old friend. It felt sad when I saw that this building had collapsed. What can I say? I’ve photographed this place for almost fifteen years. I’ve had a sublime attraction to the place since the first time I saw it. I could never drive past it. I always had to stop in, and whether or not I would make an image depended on an unspoken mutual regard, much like making a portrait. When I visited last week on a photo tour, I knew I would return a few days later to pay my respects in a more fitting way and make, what for me would be, the ultimate farewell portrait. This view is only visible in it’s current state, never before. Thanks for looking. G
Here are portraits from past visits: