I’ve heard a lot of fretting about the graying of the Las Cruces arts community.
It’s true that we have a lot of dynamic artists who continue to be productive and innovative in their 50s, 60s, 70s, 80s and even 90s, but I don’t think we have to worry about new generations carrying the torch.
I thought about that when Cheech Marin was talking to students from Alma d’arte Charter High School before the opening of “Chicanitas,” a collection of paintings from the celebrity’s private collection of emerging Latino artists, running through July 19 at the Las Cruces Museum of Art.
“You are the face of change. You are the mainstream. This is a little guerilla army of art. Shows like this are about getting yourselves and everyone else used to the idea,” Marin told the students.
And I think that applies to more than any particular ethnic groups or Borderland cultures, though celebration of diversity is a big part of what distinguishes the arts in New Mexico. Santa Fe became one of the top three arts markets in the United States, I’d say, by nurturing inspiration and growth springing from fecund tricultural roots.
Las Cruces could be poised to take that a step further, based on the efforts of Mesilleros and native Las Cruces artists who chose to stay here or return, joining newcomers who are committed to nurturing and encouraging new generations of artists. And the commitment extends beyond the visual arts, to theater, film, multimedia enterprises, dance, vocal and instrumental music, fiestas and special events (like the international Mariachi conference which has trained and inspired thousands of singers, songwriters, dancers and musicians) and artistic business owners.
I could fill several columns with lists of individuals and groups who have gone to extraordinary lengths to provide opportunities for young and emerging artists and support and promote their creative efforts: Mark and Stephanie Medoff, J. Paul Taylor, Irene Oliver Lewis, Heather Pollard, Marianna Gabbi, Lonnie Klein, Jerry Ann Alt, Glenn and Sally Cutter, Carolyn and Henry Bunch, Kevin and Michele Self, the Border Artists, the Doña Ana Arts Council, the Las Cruces Arts Association, No Strings Theatre Company, Mikey’s Place, Creative Media Institute and the Las Cruces Community Theatre, just to name a few, along with legions of supportive teachers, parents, friends and patrons who encouraged artistic inclinations during tough economic times.
And in recent years, I’ve encountered some inventive young entrepreneurs who have established multipurpose, art-infused cabarets and restaurants (think Boba Café), artists’ cooperatives like West End Art Depot and free-wheeling shows, like Rokoko Gallery’s imaginatively themed exhibits that welcome young and emerging artists.
Some are finding imaginative ways to make a living and make art on their own terms, promoting art exhibits and music venues at sites that also offer everything from coffee and pastries to haircuts and tattoos.
And some brave and creative young souls are starting their own galleries and online arts enterprises.
Read about Derek Roberts, whose Art Obscura Gallery offers cutting-edge art, along with antiques and collectibles, in today’s SunLife section.
Like Roberts, Luke Navarro wanted to find a way to do his own art and also provide a venue for other artists. He opened The Trunk, an eclectic art gallery and toy emporium, at 1690 S. Valley Drive, near the World Gym. To get the word out, he used social media and projected sci-fi movies on the outside of his out-of-the-way white building.
“On opening night, we were blown away by the amount of people who came. We counted 311 people, shoulder to shoulder,” Navarro said.
He’s part of a growing trend. Artistic passions are the mothers of many inventions here for young artists who want to live in Las Cruces and still pursue their artistic careers.
Jamila Hull creates sensitive portraits, which she offers online at jellywell.com, and at her booth at the Las Cruces Farmers and Crafts Market.
Her motto could be a credo for a generation of innovative young artists: “If you can get away with doing what you love, do it, and if not, do it anyway,” said Hull, who has studied art in Italy and interned at the Smithsonian Institute in Washington, D.C., but feels she’s found her dream job in her own home town.
“I produce everything and do all my own marketing. It’s hard to predict or figure out what is going to work. I get people of all ages, and a lot of people from the Las Cruces Farmers and Crafts Market. The market is incredible. I feel so blessed with the sense of community there. It’s so funky and eclectic: the best way to spend Saturday,” Hull told me.
S. Derrickson Moore may be reached at dmoore@lcsun-news.com. @derricksonmorre on Twitter or Tout or call 575-541-5450.
Friday, May 23, 2014
Friday, May 9, 2014
The rise of Superweekends
If you think there’s nothing to do in this town, you haven’t been paying attention.
It’s true that I have a front row seat — literally and figuratively — after two decades covering arts and entertainment here, but I think it has to be obvious to most of us that things are hot and getting hotter.
FTFS (Full-Tilt Fiesta Season) now is pretty much year-around. When I arrived in the mid-1990s, FTFS kicked off with the Deming Duck Races in late August and ran until December. Sure, there were a few enthusiastic traditional holiday celebrations, along with the Whole Enchilada Festival, RenFaire and some hot air balloon gatherings here and there, but there were long, long fallow periods in the heat of summer and the cold of winter where nothing major happened for long periods of time, at least in the fiesta department.
But even then, we produced an amazing amount of arts and entertainment for a city our size. Barbara Hubbard thought Las Cruces could be a major entertainment hub for bands and performers en route from Texas to Arizona and California, and she made sure that the powers that be knew about Las Cruces in general and Pan Am and other NMSU venues in particular. As a result, when larger cities went begging, we were enjoying performances by everyone from George Strait and Garth Brooks to Pearl Jam, Elton John and Janet Jackson, to say nothing of Lollapalooza rock fests.
Thanks to the pioneering work and connections of people like Marianna Gabbi, the first American woman to conduct in both China and the then-USSR, the Las Cruces Symphony also attracted world-class performers, a tradition continued by Lonnie Klein.
Our theater community also has deep and impressive roots. Hershel Zohn at New Mexico State University set the stage, with Bruce Streett, Mark Medoff and others, to form the American Southwest Theatre Company, which joins the Las Cruces Community Theatre, No Strings-Black Box Theatre Company, a host of children’s theater groups, and assorted independent groups based at venues around town. We’ve acquired a reputation as the Broadway of the Southwest, fostered by the residency of NMSU prof Mark Medoff, a Tony Award-winning playwright, Oscar-nominated filmmaker and Creative Media Institute founder who has made numerous films here, and taken several plays from Las Cruces to bigger venues including the “real” Broadway in New York.
We have nurtured musical superstars, too, who have made the big time in the Big Apple and elsewhere in fields that range from classical, opera to bluegrass, rock, pop and country. The roster of talented musicians is now growing so fast that I’m not going to attempt a listing. Let’s just say there are an impressive number of stars with Las Cruces roots in just about any art field you can name.
We have world class Las Cruces-based painters, sculptors, ceramicists, specialists in glass, wood and street arts and multimedia artists. We have extraordinary performance artists, including nationally-honored dance groups based at NMSU, some of the planet’s best flamenco and folklorico dancers, Project Motion, an aerial dance troupe that tours extensively, and Las Cruces Chamber Ballet, New Mexico’s oldest continuing ballet company.
We have award-winning filmmakers, poets, novelists, historical and non-fiction writers and journalists.
We have Alma d’arte Charter High School and other private and public schools and educational programs and projects devoted to the arts from elementary to college level. The Las Cruces International Mariachi Festival has polished the talents of generations of mariachi musicians and folklorico dancers. And increasingly, we put a lot of this talent to work entertaining us all at lots of fiestas. So many, in fact, that in the two decades I’ve been here, we have evolved into a city with a year-around FTFS, punctuated with more and more Superweekends.
We expect a lot of fun on established holidays, like Memorial Day weekend (read all about the growing number of attractions in today’s SunLife section). But some Superweekends have been a surprise, even to those of us in the FTFS biz, like a recent April weekend that included the Las Cruces County Music Festival, Border Book Festival, Las Cruces Railroad Days, British Car Days and New Mexico Avenue Art street art competition.
Superweekends represent super opportunities, for talented persons based in Las Cruces, for tourists attracted by the excitement and the restaurants, hotels and other business that cater to them, and of, course, for fiesta animals like us, who appreciate the fun and camaraderie of living in the FTFS center of the planet.
S. Derrickson Moore may be reached at dmoore@lcsun-news.com, @Derrickson Moore on Twitter or Tout or call 575-541-5450.Moore may be reached at 575-541-5450
It’s true that I have a front row seat — literally and figuratively — after two decades covering arts and entertainment here, but I think it has to be obvious to most of us that things are hot and getting hotter.
FTFS (Full-Tilt Fiesta Season) now is pretty much year-around. When I arrived in the mid-1990s, FTFS kicked off with the Deming Duck Races in late August and ran until December. Sure, there were a few enthusiastic traditional holiday celebrations, along with the Whole Enchilada Festival, RenFaire and some hot air balloon gatherings here and there, but there were long, long fallow periods in the heat of summer and the cold of winter where nothing major happened for long periods of time, at least in the fiesta department.
But even then, we produced an amazing amount of arts and entertainment for a city our size. Barbara Hubbard thought Las Cruces could be a major entertainment hub for bands and performers en route from Texas to Arizona and California, and she made sure that the powers that be knew about Las Cruces in general and Pan Am and other NMSU venues in particular. As a result, when larger cities went begging, we were enjoying performances by everyone from George Strait and Garth Brooks to Pearl Jam, Elton John and Janet Jackson, to say nothing of Lollapalooza rock fests.
Thanks to the pioneering work and connections of people like Marianna Gabbi, the first American woman to conduct in both China and the then-USSR, the Las Cruces Symphony also attracted world-class performers, a tradition continued by Lonnie Klein.
Our theater community also has deep and impressive roots. Hershel Zohn at New Mexico State University set the stage, with Bruce Streett, Mark Medoff and others, to form the American Southwest Theatre Company, which joins the Las Cruces Community Theatre, No Strings-Black Box Theatre Company, a host of children’s theater groups, and assorted independent groups based at venues around town. We’ve acquired a reputation as the Broadway of the Southwest, fostered by the residency of NMSU prof Mark Medoff, a Tony Award-winning playwright, Oscar-nominated filmmaker and Creative Media Institute founder who has made numerous films here, and taken several plays from Las Cruces to bigger venues including the “real” Broadway in New York.
We have nurtured musical superstars, too, who have made the big time in the Big Apple and elsewhere in fields that range from classical, opera to bluegrass, rock, pop and country. The roster of talented musicians is now growing so fast that I’m not going to attempt a listing. Let’s just say there are an impressive number of stars with Las Cruces roots in just about any art field you can name.
We have world class Las Cruces-based painters, sculptors, ceramicists, specialists in glass, wood and street arts and multimedia artists. We have extraordinary performance artists, including nationally-honored dance groups based at NMSU, some of the planet’s best flamenco and folklorico dancers, Project Motion, an aerial dance troupe that tours extensively, and Las Cruces Chamber Ballet, New Mexico’s oldest continuing ballet company.
We have award-winning filmmakers, poets, novelists, historical and non-fiction writers and journalists.
We have Alma d’arte Charter High School and other private and public schools and educational programs and projects devoted to the arts from elementary to college level. The Las Cruces International Mariachi Festival has polished the talents of generations of mariachi musicians and folklorico dancers. And increasingly, we put a lot of this talent to work entertaining us all at lots of fiestas. So many, in fact, that in the two decades I’ve been here, we have evolved into a city with a year-around FTFS, punctuated with more and more Superweekends.
We expect a lot of fun on established holidays, like Memorial Day weekend (read all about the growing number of attractions in today’s SunLife section). But some Superweekends have been a surprise, even to those of us in the FTFS biz, like a recent April weekend that included the Las Cruces County Music Festival, Border Book Festival, Las Cruces Railroad Days, British Car Days and New Mexico Avenue Art street art competition.
Superweekends represent super opportunities, for talented persons based in Las Cruces, for tourists attracted by the excitement and the restaurants, hotels and other business that cater to them, and of, course, for fiesta animals like us, who appreciate the fun and camaraderie of living in the FTFS center of the planet.
S. Derrickson Moore may be reached at dmoore@lcsun-news.com, @Derrickson Moore on Twitter or Tout or call 575-541-5450.Moore may be reached at 575-541-5450
What Mothers really want
What does your mother really want?
If you’re a loving son or daughter, it’s probably a question you’ve been asking yourself lately, while shopping for Mother’s Day gifts. And if you’re a really good, loving son or daughter, it’s something you’ve probably been pondering since you were old enough to ponder.
Not that the best of us haven’t had our arguments and disagreements with our parents. Even Jesus and Mary had some differing opinions about things like when it was appropriate for the child Jesus to go off and confer with scholars, apparently without telling his parents. Or when it was okay for Jesus to start turning water into wine at a wedding.
So it’s certainly not surprising that we lesser mortals often are not always fully enlightened about what our moms want.
But I’ve lived long enough to know what moms want for their kids.
The best.
We may not always agree on what that is. What our moms want for us, and what those of us fortunate enough to become moms and grandmoms want for their own kids and grandkids, is often colored by our own journeys in life.
If we’ve had a tough time, we want better things for our kids, and ways to give it to them.
But I’ve spent enough time among the super rich and privileged to know that there are some enlightened souls who realize there is a balance; that too much, too soon — with too little accountability and parental attention — can be as destructive to the soul of child as the ravages of poverty, discrimination and neglect.
And I’ve done enough volunteer work and reporting in the field to know that child abuse is invariably a vicious circle: virtually every child abuser I’ve ever encountered has himself or herself been the victim of abuse as a child — emotionally or physically and usually both, often exacerbated by drug abuse or mental illness rooted in childhood abuse. Wherever you stand on the nature vs. nurture debate, it’s clear to me that both good and evil deeds and impulses can be nurtured or thwarted by our beginnings in life, by the ways our moms were loved and cared for, and the way they love and care for us.
I am thankful that whatever ordeals suffered on a tough planet, most moms manage to transcend and be their sterling soul selves, most of the time. And that most children recognize that, and manage to forgive and move on when mistakes are made, as they inevitably are.
This Mother’s Day, I’ve been pondering what I want most for Mother’s Day, and I realize that I would happily forgo all personal presents past, present and future — and I’ll bet most moms would agree — if we could somehow work together to give the basics to every child on the planet: shelter, food, clothing, health care and education.
That could be enough to occupy us for a generation, and this generation of thoughtful millennials might just be the ones to finally pull it off.
There’s a lot to do in each category. We need to clean up the environment and come up with sustainable strategies to maintain it and grow the healthy food we need for health.
Education is crucial to so much of what makes life worth living, as is the wisdom to know that we need arts and ethics, poetry and music, and philosophy and literature, as well as technology and science. Maybe if we all devoted a little more time to the meaning of life, we’d naturally find ways every day to make our lives mean more.
That’s why I’m concluding that what loving moms — and dads — want for their kids could be the key to real happiness and meaning in all of our lives.
We want the best for our kids, and grandkids and great-grandkids. If we could make that our priority, for everybody’s kids everywhere in the world, for a generation, a decade, or even a year, I wonder what changes we would see in the world.
I know that’s what I want for Mother’s Day this year.
Happy Mother’s Day to mothers everywhere, and the best for our children.
S. Derrickson Moore may be reached at dmoore@lcsun-news.com, @Derrickson Moore on Twitter or Tout or call 575-541-5450.
If you’re a loving son or daughter, it’s probably a question you’ve been asking yourself lately, while shopping for Mother’s Day gifts. And if you’re a really good, loving son or daughter, it’s something you’ve probably been pondering since you were old enough to ponder.
Not that the best of us haven’t had our arguments and disagreements with our parents. Even Jesus and Mary had some differing opinions about things like when it was appropriate for the child Jesus to go off and confer with scholars, apparently without telling his parents. Or when it was okay for Jesus to start turning water into wine at a wedding.
So it’s certainly not surprising that we lesser mortals often are not always fully enlightened about what our moms want.
But I’ve lived long enough to know what moms want for their kids.
The best.
We may not always agree on what that is. What our moms want for us, and what those of us fortunate enough to become moms and grandmoms want for their own kids and grandkids, is often colored by our own journeys in life.
If we’ve had a tough time, we want better things for our kids, and ways to give it to them.
But I’ve spent enough time among the super rich and privileged to know that there are some enlightened souls who realize there is a balance; that too much, too soon — with too little accountability and parental attention — can be as destructive to the soul of child as the ravages of poverty, discrimination and neglect.
And I’ve done enough volunteer work and reporting in the field to know that child abuse is invariably a vicious circle: virtually every child abuser I’ve ever encountered has himself or herself been the victim of abuse as a child — emotionally or physically and usually both, often exacerbated by drug abuse or mental illness rooted in childhood abuse. Wherever you stand on the nature vs. nurture debate, it’s clear to me that both good and evil deeds and impulses can be nurtured or thwarted by our beginnings in life, by the ways our moms were loved and cared for, and the way they love and care for us.
I am thankful that whatever ordeals suffered on a tough planet, most moms manage to transcend and be their sterling soul selves, most of the time. And that most children recognize that, and manage to forgive and move on when mistakes are made, as they inevitably are.
This Mother’s Day, I’ve been pondering what I want most for Mother’s Day, and I realize that I would happily forgo all personal presents past, present and future — and I’ll bet most moms would agree — if we could somehow work together to give the basics to every child on the planet: shelter, food, clothing, health care and education.
That could be enough to occupy us for a generation, and this generation of thoughtful millennials might just be the ones to finally pull it off.
There’s a lot to do in each category. We need to clean up the environment and come up with sustainable strategies to maintain it and grow the healthy food we need for health.
Education is crucial to so much of what makes life worth living, as is the wisdom to know that we need arts and ethics, poetry and music, and philosophy and literature, as well as technology and science. Maybe if we all devoted a little more time to the meaning of life, we’d naturally find ways every day to make our lives mean more.
That’s why I’m concluding that what loving moms — and dads — want for their kids could be the key to real happiness and meaning in all of our lives.
We want the best for our kids, and grandkids and great-grandkids. If we could make that our priority, for everybody’s kids everywhere in the world, for a generation, a decade, or even a year, I wonder what changes we would see in the world.
I know that’s what I want for Mother’s Day this year.
Happy Mother’s Day to mothers everywhere, and the best for our children.
S. Derrickson Moore may be reached at dmoore@lcsun-news.com, @Derrickson Moore on Twitter or Tout or call 575-541-5450.
Savor those perfect (and rare) spring days
Maybe it’s time to add another state question to the official “red or green?” chile choice.
Spring or fall?
I realized I’d finally made my choice one recent perfect day when I found myself pausing outside the office, lifting my face skyward, eyes closed and in a deadlines-be-damned, timeless space. Basking, like a happy lizard, in the spring sun.
And no, I hadn’t forgotten that just a few days earlier, I’d endured rain, high winds, dust devils and even a fairly impressive hailstorm, all within a few hours in the course of my outdoor Saturday rounds. Some of it was at Springfest, where I realized the Land of Enchantment is producing healthy, hearty generations of new spring fans, after lingering for several minutes attempting to record videos of dauntless kids trying to make giant bubbles in a windstorm. The next weekend featured wind gusts up to 60 mph, toppling several tents and canopies on my Superweekend festival rounds and literally ripped my pen apart and blew it away, a first in my reporting career.
Ah, spring, when your recently washed and gleaming car suddenly is decorated with dusty polka dots, the special effects of a short burst of very small rain drops, followed by an instant blast of sandy winds. We’d have to admire an artist who managed to achieve such a meticulous, nicely textured masterpiece so quickly, working with volatile, ephemeral media. Bravo, Mother Nature.
Ah, spring, which brought buds three weeks early this year, according to a Doña Ana County Extension official. Did your fruit trees retain blossoms long enough for pollination and to set fruit before the winds blew everything away in beautiful clouds of blowsy petals?
Ah, spring, when the temperature is balmy and perfect, but the air can turn so gritty from a sudden and/or prolonged and sustained haboob that no sane soul would venture out without goggles and a face mask — or at all, if there’s a choice.
Not that staying indoors offers much respite from the fine, slightly oily, sticky dust that seems to seep in just about everywhere.
“It even gets into your closets, and in things in boxes and bags in your closets. I miss so much about New Mexico, but not that,” said a friend, a former Las Crucen who has defected to New York.
But ah, spring. Just when you think the winds will march on forever in lion mode, comes a perfect day.
You take a walk and discover a new crop of neon cactus blooms and see lazy cloud wisps hovering overhead in an impossibly blue sky. Everything suddenly looks like an Impressionist painting, or a soft-focus, hand-colored vintage postcard. ¡Viva Mother Nature!
Perfect sunrises and sunsets, and perfect weather to enjoy them. No need yet, to think about turning off the furnace or turning on the A/C or swamp cooler. Heart-warming days and just-cool-enough nights. Just perfect.
Some tell me they don’t really enjoy spring because they’re dreading the long, hot summer. I guess I can sympathize, but I like my weather — like my chile — very hot, and truth to tell, summer has been my favorite season for most of my life, and is still a close second to spring, here in my New Mexico quenencia.
Many say that autumn is the perfect season in New Mexico, and I’ll admit it has its golden aspen moments. But it can also be dry and dusty and kind of disheartening, depending on how the summer monsoon season has developed that year. And unlike spring, with its promise of new life, things are dying and drying up even more. And winter is coming — something a Michigan native can never take lightly — and more wind storms, cold ones.
So go ahead and sneeze and complain about the dust and the wind and the pollen if it makes you feel better. I’ll remember the spring volcanoes, tornados, hurricanes, late snowstorms, mudslides, floods and torrential rains I’ve survived in other places I’ve lived and consider myself lucky. I don’t even mind the dust anymore. Just another excuse to postpone spring cleaning, no?
I’ll cheerfully weather a little spring bout of wind, dust, rain or hail, none of which lasts very long before reverting to sunny New Mexico spring mode.
And then comes that perfect day to remind you why you moved to New Mexico. Or stay. Or returned. Or never really considered leaving. And you’ll pause and linger, outside the office or classroom, on a patio with margaritas and friends and hummingbirds. Or maybe it’s just you and spring, sharing a moment. And that’s perfect, too.
Ah, spring.
S. Derrickson Moore may be reached at dmoore@lcsun-news.com, @Derrickson Moore on Twitter or Tout or call 575-541-5450.
Spring or fall?
I realized I’d finally made my choice one recent perfect day when I found myself pausing outside the office, lifting my face skyward, eyes closed and in a deadlines-be-damned, timeless space. Basking, like a happy lizard, in the spring sun.
And no, I hadn’t forgotten that just a few days earlier, I’d endured rain, high winds, dust devils and even a fairly impressive hailstorm, all within a few hours in the course of my outdoor Saturday rounds. Some of it was at Springfest, where I realized the Land of Enchantment is producing healthy, hearty generations of new spring fans, after lingering for several minutes attempting to record videos of dauntless kids trying to make giant bubbles in a windstorm. The next weekend featured wind gusts up to 60 mph, toppling several tents and canopies on my Superweekend festival rounds and literally ripped my pen apart and blew it away, a first in my reporting career.
Ah, spring, when your recently washed and gleaming car suddenly is decorated with dusty polka dots, the special effects of a short burst of very small rain drops, followed by an instant blast of sandy winds. We’d have to admire an artist who managed to achieve such a meticulous, nicely textured masterpiece so quickly, working with volatile, ephemeral media. Bravo, Mother Nature.
Ah, spring, which brought buds three weeks early this year, according to a Doña Ana County Extension official. Did your fruit trees retain blossoms long enough for pollination and to set fruit before the winds blew everything away in beautiful clouds of blowsy petals?
Ah, spring, when the temperature is balmy and perfect, but the air can turn so gritty from a sudden and/or prolonged and sustained haboob that no sane soul would venture out without goggles and a face mask — or at all, if there’s a choice.
Not that staying indoors offers much respite from the fine, slightly oily, sticky dust that seems to seep in just about everywhere.
“It even gets into your closets, and in things in boxes and bags in your closets. I miss so much about New Mexico, but not that,” said a friend, a former Las Crucen who has defected to New York.
But ah, spring. Just when you think the winds will march on forever in lion mode, comes a perfect day.
You take a walk and discover a new crop of neon cactus blooms and see lazy cloud wisps hovering overhead in an impossibly blue sky. Everything suddenly looks like an Impressionist painting, or a soft-focus, hand-colored vintage postcard. ¡Viva Mother Nature!
Perfect sunrises and sunsets, and perfect weather to enjoy them. No need yet, to think about turning off the furnace or turning on the A/C or swamp cooler. Heart-warming days and just-cool-enough nights. Just perfect.
Some tell me they don’t really enjoy spring because they’re dreading the long, hot summer. I guess I can sympathize, but I like my weather — like my chile — very hot, and truth to tell, summer has been my favorite season for most of my life, and is still a close second to spring, here in my New Mexico quenencia.
Many say that autumn is the perfect season in New Mexico, and I’ll admit it has its golden aspen moments. But it can also be dry and dusty and kind of disheartening, depending on how the summer monsoon season has developed that year. And unlike spring, with its promise of new life, things are dying and drying up even more. And winter is coming — something a Michigan native can never take lightly — and more wind storms, cold ones.
So go ahead and sneeze and complain about the dust and the wind and the pollen if it makes you feel better. I’ll remember the spring volcanoes, tornados, hurricanes, late snowstorms, mudslides, floods and torrential rains I’ve survived in other places I’ve lived and consider myself lucky. I don’t even mind the dust anymore. Just another excuse to postpone spring cleaning, no?
I’ll cheerfully weather a little spring bout of wind, dust, rain or hail, none of which lasts very long before reverting to sunny New Mexico spring mode.
And then comes that perfect day to remind you why you moved to New Mexico. Or stay. Or returned. Or never really considered leaving. And you’ll pause and linger, outside the office or classroom, on a patio with margaritas and friends and hummingbirds. Or maybe it’s just you and spring, sharing a moment. And that’s perfect, too.
Ah, spring.
S. Derrickson Moore may be reached at dmoore@lcsun-news.com, @Derrickson Moore on Twitter or Tout or call 575-541-5450.
Zen and the art of lap swimming
For anything you willingly and gracefully give up, you just might get something better.
That’s a maxim I’ve been testing and refining all my life.
I tested it again this month, when the pool where I’ve been doing laps for two decades closed down “indefinitely” (an ominous word) for repairs.
After a couple weeks of increasing, pool-deprivation-induced crabbiness, I decided mankind (or this woman, anyway) cannot live by walking and circuit training alone. And I finally made my first visit to the Las Cruces Aquatic Center.
I miss the mermaid mural at my old pool, and the old gang, and a honed sense born of experience that always seemed to let me arrive at just the right time to sign up for a lap lane of my very own.
At the aquatic center, lap swimming seems to be a competitive sport at best, or lap roulette at worst. If you’re lucky, you might share a lane with just one other person, or a third who’s skilled at a kind of lap slalom strategy, avoiding the other two most of the time.
Uncharacteristically, I realized I’ve become a creature of habit. Usually, I have a tough time doing the same thing exactly the same way twice, even when I really want to, but I’ve committed a lap routine to muscle memory. Swimming has become a kind of meditation for me, a little break in my day when I can effortlessly multi-task, exercising my body, soothing my soul and sometimes doing some simultaneous mental gymnastics, too. I often organize my day, and occasionally write most of a column and outline a story or two, while I’m swimming laps. On a good day, I may even squeeze in a spirited political debate with others in the pool, or sing along with the left-over water aerobics soundtracks until instructors reclaim their CDs.
In a year of change on every front, here comes more. The water is colder. Sound echoes through the cavernous center. The lanes are longer and I keep bumping my head when I do the backstroke, no matter how carefully I think I’m keeping track of my bearings and the other swimmers in “my” lane.
During week two, I realized a new strategy was needed, a different way of looking a what could be seen as a hardship, or deprivation — or an opportunity.
It came to me when I was walking in the pool’s curving current channel, looking for alternatives to being a lap-swimming third wheel.
I couldn’t for the life of me perceive the benefits of walking with the current as everybody else seemed to be doing (as a productive workout strategy, or, if I’m being honest, as a philosophy of life). So I waited until there wasn’t much activity, and started walking against the current.
I was transported back to my wild youth, and remembered when I first fell in love with being in the water. It had nothing to do with laps or exercise routines. From toddlerhood, my waterbaby siblings and I would have happily turned blue and remained forever in the waves of Lake Michigan, floating in the spring-fed currents that fed Lake Margrethe or Higgins Lake, or walking for winding miles upriver on hot summer days in the cold waters of the Pere Marquette or Ausable.
There was something wild and freeing and timeless about those river walks, when walking against the strong current seemed somehow almost as effortless as the returning, lazy float back home, drifting, then, with the flow.
What a bonus to be able to experience a little of that transcendent rejuvenation again, at this stage in my life, here in my high-desert querencia, where our once-wild river has been thoroughly tamed and won’t even be turned back on for several weeks.
And the whole experience comes without dreaded log-jam spiders, mosquitos, snapping turtles, cuts and scrapes or the need to tote machetes to cut through overhanging brush.
I’m still hoping my favorite Las Cruces swimming pool will be back soon, but in the meantime, it can be fun to explore new territory and remain open to new adventures.
Sometimes, for something you willingly and gracefully give up, you could get something better, or a surprising, refreshing float down memory lanes.
S. Derrickson Moore may be reached at dmoore@lcsun-news.com, @Derrickson Moore on Twitter or Tout or call 575-541-5450.
That’s a maxim I’ve been testing and refining all my life.
I tested it again this month, when the pool where I’ve been doing laps for two decades closed down “indefinitely” (an ominous word) for repairs.
After a couple weeks of increasing, pool-deprivation-induced crabbiness, I decided mankind (or this woman, anyway) cannot live by walking and circuit training alone. And I finally made my first visit to the Las Cruces Aquatic Center.
I miss the mermaid mural at my old pool, and the old gang, and a honed sense born of experience that always seemed to let me arrive at just the right time to sign up for a lap lane of my very own.
At the aquatic center, lap swimming seems to be a competitive sport at best, or lap roulette at worst. If you’re lucky, you might share a lane with just one other person, or a third who’s skilled at a kind of lap slalom strategy, avoiding the other two most of the time.
Uncharacteristically, I realized I’ve become a creature of habit. Usually, I have a tough time doing the same thing exactly the same way twice, even when I really want to, but I’ve committed a lap routine to muscle memory. Swimming has become a kind of meditation for me, a little break in my day when I can effortlessly multi-task, exercising my body, soothing my soul and sometimes doing some simultaneous mental gymnastics, too. I often organize my day, and occasionally write most of a column and outline a story or two, while I’m swimming laps. On a good day, I may even squeeze in a spirited political debate with others in the pool, or sing along with the left-over water aerobics soundtracks until instructors reclaim their CDs.
In a year of change on every front, here comes more. The water is colder. Sound echoes through the cavernous center. The lanes are longer and I keep bumping my head when I do the backstroke, no matter how carefully I think I’m keeping track of my bearings and the other swimmers in “my” lane.
During week two, I realized a new strategy was needed, a different way of looking a what could be seen as a hardship, or deprivation — or an opportunity.
It came to me when I was walking in the pool’s curving current channel, looking for alternatives to being a lap-swimming third wheel.
I couldn’t for the life of me perceive the benefits of walking with the current as everybody else seemed to be doing (as a productive workout strategy, or, if I’m being honest, as a philosophy of life). So I waited until there wasn’t much activity, and started walking against the current.
I was transported back to my wild youth, and remembered when I first fell in love with being in the water. It had nothing to do with laps or exercise routines. From toddlerhood, my waterbaby siblings and I would have happily turned blue and remained forever in the waves of Lake Michigan, floating in the spring-fed currents that fed Lake Margrethe or Higgins Lake, or walking for winding miles upriver on hot summer days in the cold waters of the Pere Marquette or Ausable.
There was something wild and freeing and timeless about those river walks, when walking against the strong current seemed somehow almost as effortless as the returning, lazy float back home, drifting, then, with the flow.
What a bonus to be able to experience a little of that transcendent rejuvenation again, at this stage in my life, here in my high-desert querencia, where our once-wild river has been thoroughly tamed and won’t even be turned back on for several weeks.
And the whole experience comes without dreaded log-jam spiders, mosquitos, snapping turtles, cuts and scrapes or the need to tote machetes to cut through overhanging brush.
I’m still hoping my favorite Las Cruces swimming pool will be back soon, but in the meantime, it can be fun to explore new territory and remain open to new adventures.
Sometimes, for something you willingly and gracefully give up, you could get something better, or a surprising, refreshing float down memory lanes.
S. Derrickson Moore may be reached at dmoore@lcsun-news.com, @Derrickson Moore on Twitter or Tout or call 575-541-5450.
Young artists find new ways to market arts
I’ve heard a lot of fretting about the graying of the Las Cruces arts community.
It’s true that we have a lot of dynamic artists who continue to be productive and innovative in their 50s, 60s, 70s, 80s and even 90s, but I don’t think we have to worry about new generations carrying the torch.
I thought about that when Cheech Marin was talking to students from Alma d’arte Charter High School before the opening of “Chicanitas,” a collection of paintings from the celebrity’s private collection of emerging Latino artists, which runs through July 19 at the Las Cruces Museum of Art.
“You are the face of change. You are the mainstream, This is a little guerilla army of art. Shows like this are about getting yourselves and everyone else used to the idea,” Marin told the students.
And I think that applies to more than any particular ethnic groups or Borderland cultures, though celebration of diversity is a big part of what distinguishes the arts in New Mexico. Santa Fe became one of the top three arts markets in the United States, I’d say, by nurturing inspiration and growth springing from fecund tricultural roots.
Las Cruces could be poised to take that a step further, based on the efforts of Mesilleros and native Las Cruces artists who chose to stay here or return, joining newcomers who are committed to nurturing and encouraging new generations of artists. And the commitment extends beyond the visual arts, to theater, film, multimedia enterprises, dance, vocal and instrumental music, fiestas and special events (like the international Mariachi conference which has trained and inspired thousands of singers, songwriters, dancers and musicians) and artistic business owners.
I could fill several columns with lists of individuals and groups who have gone to extraordinary lengths to provide opportunities for young and emerging artists and support and promote their creative efforts: Mark and Stephanie Medoff, J. Paul Taylor, Irene Oliver Lewis, Heather Pollard, Marianna Gabbi, Lonnie Klein, Jerry Ann Alt, Glenn and Sally Cutter, Carolyn and Henry Bunch, Kevin and Michele Self, the Border Artists, the Doña Ana Arts Council, the Las Cruces Arts Association, No Strings Theatre Company, Mikey’s Place, Creative Media Institute and the Las Cruces Community Theatre, just to name a few, along with legions of supportive teachers, parents, friends and patrons who encouraged artistic inclinations during tough economic times.
And in recent years, I’ve encountered some inventive young entrepreneurs who have established multipurpose, art-infused cabarets and restaurants (think Boba Café), artists’ cooperatives like West End Art Depot and free-wheeling shows, like Rokoko Gallery’s imaginatively themed exhibits that welcome young and emerging artists.
Some are finding imaginative ways to make a living and make art on their own terms, promoting art exhibits and music venues at sites that also offer everything from coffee and pastries to haircuts and tattoos.
And some brave and creative young souls are starting their own galleries and online arts enterprises.
Read about Derek Roberts, whose Art Obscura Gallery offers cutting-edge art, along with antiques and collectibles, in today’s SunLife section.
Like Roberts, Luke Navarro wanted to find a way to do his own art and also provide a venue for other artists. He opened The Trunk, an eclectic art gallery and toy emporium at 1690 S. Valley Drive, near the World Gym. To get the word out, he used social media and projected sci-fi movies on the outside of his out-of-the-way white building.
“On opening night, we were blown away by the amount of people who came. We counted 311 people, shoulder to shoulder,” Navarro said.
He’s part of a growing trend. Artistic passions are the mothers of many inventions here for young artists who want to live in Las Cruces and still pursue their artistic careers.
Jamila Hull offers sensitive portraiture, which she offers online at jellywell.com, and at her booth at the Las Cruces Farmers & Crafts Market.
Her motto could be a credo for a generation of innovative young artists: ”If you can get away with doing what you love, do it, and if not, do it anyway,” said Hull, who has studied art in Italy and interned at the Smithsonian Institute in Washington, D.C., but feels she’s found her dream job in her own home town.
“I produce everything and do all my own marketing. It’s hard to predict or figure out what is going to work. I get people of all ages, and a lot of people from the Las Cruces Farmers & Crafts Market. The market is incredible. I feel so blessed with the sense of community there. It’s so funky and eclectic: the best way to spend Saturday,” Hull told me.
S. Derrickson Moore may be reached at dmoore@lcsun-news.com. @derricksonmorre on Twitter or Tout or call 575-541-5450.
It’s true that we have a lot of dynamic artists who continue to be productive and innovative in their 50s, 60s, 70s, 80s and even 90s, but I don’t think we have to worry about new generations carrying the torch.
I thought about that when Cheech Marin was talking to students from Alma d’arte Charter High School before the opening of “Chicanitas,” a collection of paintings from the celebrity’s private collection of emerging Latino artists, which runs through July 19 at the Las Cruces Museum of Art.
“You are the face of change. You are the mainstream, This is a little guerilla army of art. Shows like this are about getting yourselves and everyone else used to the idea,” Marin told the students.
And I think that applies to more than any particular ethnic groups or Borderland cultures, though celebration of diversity is a big part of what distinguishes the arts in New Mexico. Santa Fe became one of the top three arts markets in the United States, I’d say, by nurturing inspiration and growth springing from fecund tricultural roots.
Las Cruces could be poised to take that a step further, based on the efforts of Mesilleros and native Las Cruces artists who chose to stay here or return, joining newcomers who are committed to nurturing and encouraging new generations of artists. And the commitment extends beyond the visual arts, to theater, film, multimedia enterprises, dance, vocal and instrumental music, fiestas and special events (like the international Mariachi conference which has trained and inspired thousands of singers, songwriters, dancers and musicians) and artistic business owners.
I could fill several columns with lists of individuals and groups who have gone to extraordinary lengths to provide opportunities for young and emerging artists and support and promote their creative efforts: Mark and Stephanie Medoff, J. Paul Taylor, Irene Oliver Lewis, Heather Pollard, Marianna Gabbi, Lonnie Klein, Jerry Ann Alt, Glenn and Sally Cutter, Carolyn and Henry Bunch, Kevin and Michele Self, the Border Artists, the Doña Ana Arts Council, the Las Cruces Arts Association, No Strings Theatre Company, Mikey’s Place, Creative Media Institute and the Las Cruces Community Theatre, just to name a few, along with legions of supportive teachers, parents, friends and patrons who encouraged artistic inclinations during tough economic times.
And in recent years, I’ve encountered some inventive young entrepreneurs who have established multipurpose, art-infused cabarets and restaurants (think Boba Café), artists’ cooperatives like West End Art Depot and free-wheeling shows, like Rokoko Gallery’s imaginatively themed exhibits that welcome young and emerging artists.
Some are finding imaginative ways to make a living and make art on their own terms, promoting art exhibits and music venues at sites that also offer everything from coffee and pastries to haircuts and tattoos.
And some brave and creative young souls are starting their own galleries and online arts enterprises.
Read about Derek Roberts, whose Art Obscura Gallery offers cutting-edge art, along with antiques and collectibles, in today’s SunLife section.
Like Roberts, Luke Navarro wanted to find a way to do his own art and also provide a venue for other artists. He opened The Trunk, an eclectic art gallery and toy emporium at 1690 S. Valley Drive, near the World Gym. To get the word out, he used social media and projected sci-fi movies on the outside of his out-of-the-way white building.
“On opening night, we were blown away by the amount of people who came. We counted 311 people, shoulder to shoulder,” Navarro said.
He’s part of a growing trend. Artistic passions are the mothers of many inventions here for young artists who want to live in Las Cruces and still pursue their artistic careers.
Jamila Hull offers sensitive portraiture, which she offers online at jellywell.com, and at her booth at the Las Cruces Farmers & Crafts Market.
Her motto could be a credo for a generation of innovative young artists: ”If you can get away with doing what you love, do it, and if not, do it anyway,” said Hull, who has studied art in Italy and interned at the Smithsonian Institute in Washington, D.C., but feels she’s found her dream job in her own home town.
“I produce everything and do all my own marketing. It’s hard to predict or figure out what is going to work. I get people of all ages, and a lot of people from the Las Cruces Farmers & Crafts Market. The market is incredible. I feel so blessed with the sense of community there. It’s so funky and eclectic: the best way to spend Saturday,” Hull told me.
S. Derrickson Moore may be reached at dmoore@lcsun-news.com. @derricksonmorre on Twitter or Tout or call 575-541-5450.
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