by Michael Frank Blair 
Glassfire​

Jim Woodson splits his time between his home and gallery in Abiquiu and Dallas.  Learn more about Jim and his art.

Envisioned Simultaneous Intrusions (2020) is more generous with its amount of deep blue sky above the harsh white gleaning off the naked parts of the escarpment. Rainbow blotches scatter from the center-out, like psychedelic thought forms. These “interruptions” mark a third type of space which Woodson often weaves into the fabric of the painting, sometimes atop the image, other times baked in early on and nearly painted out.
​
In the work Penetrating Linear Actualized (2023), the space settles into neatly stacked bands of color, traversed vertically by totemic mirages that rise through the image-like ripples in a reflection. They hover on the surface, somewhere between fore and background, between here and there. ​

By Zach Hively

This is how I seize my once-in-a-lifetime moment.
​
Today is Leap Day.* On such a holy day as this, nothing grabs an elated reader’s attention like math.

*Today is no longer Leap Day. Unless you’re reading it on a future Leap Day. Which would become the present Leap Day. But only for that day. Anyway! I wrote this first for the Durango Telegraph, and I wanted them to have exclusive Leap Day privileges because they’ve stuck with me so long. Also because they pay me.
​
Get this. The Telegraph has been publishing on Thursday for 22 years, unless I’m wrong about that. But Leap Day leaps onto Thursdays only once every 28 years, unless calendars and Wikipedia are wrong about that. Therefore, this very day is the first Leap Day issue of the Telegraph in the history of the entire universe.

But that’s not all. Sure, the next such issue will drop in 2052, give or take a few threats to our democracy and the publisher’s threshold for unsolicited letters to the editor. But I, the Telegraph’s favorite columnist (or at least its third-longest-tenured one), write only one out of every five weeks. So, just playing the digits here, I’ll have to wait FIVE MORE LEAP DAY ISSUES, which I can’t calculate in years because I’m an English major who didn’t benefit from Common Core math in school. I only got to benefit from DARE, where I and many of my peers developed an uncanny ability to recognize street drugs in a word search and laughed a lot about the word “crack.”
​
So! This is a literal once-in-my-lifetime opportunity, this chance to write a Leap Day La Vida. In the immortal words of Alexander Hamilton, I’d rather not blow my chance.

Which is why it’s such a shame that I have nothing better to write about than social isolation.
Now I, personally, do not suffer from social isolation. I get off on it. I’m celebrating Leap Day entirely by myself, with no company at all, except of course my two dogs and the staff where I’ll pick up dinner and maybe some pay-by-the-minute phone entertainer and, naturally, whoever I happen to run into while taking my dogs on a walk to pick up dinner, because it never fails that I run into SOMEONE when I’m busy trying to celebrate a joyous occasion in a public space by myself.

But other people really and truly do suffer from social isolation. It’s a serious issue for many. I can usually identify them as the people I run into on walks. They are so hungry for human interaction, and lack the resources to pay for it, that they’ll stop me to prattle on and on about things that really do not matter to anyone but themselves, and I for some reason engage them.

I’ll start to wonder if they even have a point besides filling space, but I can tell just by looking that they’re barely even halfway finished with their spiel and I’m too polite and/or inept to just stop reading—erm, I mean listening—so I tough it out as an act of public service to the socially isolated who, unlike me, are unhappy with the condition.

It occurs to me, though, that the true meaning of Leap Day is the inspiration to become, if not a better, at least a different person for a day. I really shouldn’t be quietly tolerating my fellow man. Rather, I should be getting far, far away from him.

Take one friend of mine who—on this very Leap Day—is flying to Los Angeles. The city of angels! The city of dreams! Where anything is possible, so long as it can be achieved while sitting in traffic. She has the right idea: Go where there are so many people that none of them want anything to do with you.

I know this is how Los Angeles works because I was just there. Right idea, poor timing—I missed the entire Leap Day celebration of solitude. But while there, the only strangers who spoke to me were the volunteers hammering me to sign some petition or other. I learned, straight away, that they needed signatures from Los Angeles residents. So, unlike when I’m on my local walks, I could just say, “Sorry, I don’t live here,” and I won points for not ignoring them while also not breaking my stride.
That is, until I bumped into a wave of petitioners who didn’t have standards, residency or otherwise. For them, I just dropped my shoulder and elbowed my way through, which on the surface seems rude, except really I was simply saving their time and breath for someone who is a better human being than I am.
All this to say, believe it or not, that while you commemorate today according to your own traditional customs, there are others less fortunate than you who have no one to celebrate with. Then there are others even less fortunate than them, those who have too many people interfering with their festivities. Don’t wait 140 years to reach out to them. Do it today: gesture at your earbuds apologetically, mouth “Sorry” at them, and keep on walking.

Thank you for reading Zach Hively and Other Mishaps. This post is public so feel free to share it.
Share

Republished from 3/19
By Sara Wright​

I have developed a fascination and a deep respect for the Great Tailed Grackle as a result of making regular visits to Walmart. I began feeding these birds bread crumbs this winter because I like them so much and because I wanted to observe these clever characters hopping about dodging automobiles and people who apparently don’t have much use for them. Some always hang out on the roof with the fake owls that were put there to scare them.
 
I wonder how many people have actually looked at the Great Tailed Grackle because both sexes are quite stunning. The male is glossy black with an ecclesiastical purple iridescence. He has a long, keel-shaped tail, massive bill and yellow eyes. The female is about half the size of the male and looks as if she’s been dipped in brown oil; she has a smaller keel shaped tail. The visual characteristic that stands out the most to me is the brilliance of those bright yellow eyes. These birds radiate intelligence!

And, in fact, studies that have been done on these birds reveal that they are adept at problem solving (even from a human point of view).

For example, the Grackles problem-solving power was tested by posing glass cylinders full of water with bits of food floating just outside the birds reach. To grab the morsels, the birds had to drop in pebbles to raise the water levels. After a number of trials most of the Grackles figured out that dropping pebbles into the water raised the water level so they could feed. They also learned that it was usually more efficient to use heavy pebbles to reach the snack, but if provided with too large stones the birds turned back to small pebbles to reach their goal.

Another test done had even more dramatic results. Silver and gold tubes of food were presented to the grackles but only the gold tubes had peanuts and bread in them. The Grackles immediately chose the gold tubes, but when the food was placed in silver tubes the birds instantly chose them. These tests reveal not only problem solving ability but also the birds’ flexibility in terms of learning.

Its important to note that Grackles outperformed three species in the crow family (Corvids).
This desert-adapted bird doesn’t need much beyond food, trees, water, and its own wits for survival. Once confined to Central America, the species began moving north 200 years ago, and now covers an immense region from northwestern Venezuela up to southern Canada. In 1900, the northern limits of its range barely extended into Texas; by the end of the century it had nested in at least 14 states and was reported in 21 states and 3 Canadian provinces. This explosive growth occurred mainly after 1960 and coincided with human-induced habitat changes such as irrigation and urbanization.

Where people have gone, Great-tailed Grackles have followed: you can find them in both agricultural and urban settings from sea level to 7,500 feet that provide open foraging areas, a water source, and trees or hedgerows. In rural areas, look for grackles pecking for seeds in feedlots, farmyards, and newly planted fields, and following tractors to feed on flying insects and exposed worms. In town, grackles forage in parks, neighborhood lawns, and at dumps. More natural habitats include chaparral and second-growth forest.

Great-tailed Grackles are loud, social birds that can form flocks numbering in the tens of thousands. Each morning small groups disperse to feed in open fields and urban areas, often foraging with cowbirds and other blackbirds, then return to roosting sites at dusk. This evening routine includes a nonstop cacophony of whistles, squeals, and rattles as birds settle in for the night.

As near as I can tell Grackles forage almost anywhere and will eat almost anything. What this says to me is that these kinds of birds have learned to co – habit with humans in very ingenious ways that must include being able to deal with pesticides.

During the last month (March) I have noted that there are fewer Grackles hanging around the parking lot. One reason for this absence may be that during the day some birds are moving into more rural areas to feed. In addition to country foraging and prior to actual nesting, both males and females begin to collect material for the nest site about four weeks before actual breeding begins in April.

Nesting occurs in colonies of a few to thousands, with the nests often placed close together. The actual nest construction is done after this period of “gathering,” which although not mentioned in any of the sources I consulted, must be related to the mating process.  The females choose the nest site, and often “borrow” nest-building materials from other females. The nest is made of grass, twigs, reeds, and mud and is woven by the female in about 5 days in a tree, shrub, or hidden in marshland vegetation placed anywhere from 3 to 30 feet off the ground or water. Nest size varies from four inches across to 13 inches deep.

The female will lay 4 to 7 eggs that are pale greenish brown with blotches. The young are ready to fledge in a month. Mother is responsible for brooding and feeding. During this period some male Grackles may guard the nest while the female forages. In contrast some others may pair with a second female during this time leaving the female to manage on her own.

Curiously, fewer male than female nestlings survive. Adult male survival may also be lower than adult female survival, which would result in a female-biased adult sex ratio.

Although there is considerable overlap in the distribution of the three species, the Common Grackle occurs throughout the eastern United States and Canada, the Great-tailed Grackle is found in the Midwest and south/western United States, and the Boat-tailed Grackle is confined to Florida and coastal areas of the Gulf states and the eastern United States.

The Grackle is protected by the Migratory Bird Treaty Act, which as far as I can tell, means practically nothing. People routinely haze, shoot, or use pesticides to eliminate these birds but their numbers continue to increase. In this time of great uncertainty due to Climate Change and continued overuse of lethal pesticides I can’t help but feel reassured that some non – human species will survive, and whenever I spend time with the Walmart birds I feel flickers of hope rising. I am already looking forward to seeing the Great Tailed Grackles once again flooding the Walmart parking in Espanola by the middle of May.

By Zach Hively

A choose-your-own no-ski adventure.

​“No” is one of the most important words people learn as toddlers. It establishes boundaries, builds a sense of self, and enables one to sing the Bob Marley song “No Woman, No Cry.” So I am pretty proud of myself for learning, finally, to just say NO when people ask if I ski.​

Not skiing is the blasphemy I’ve cradled ever since first moving to Colorado (and might be half the reason I left). I don’t even have handy excuses for not skiing. It’s not because skiing is expensive and I don’t have the gear (even though it is and I don’t). I, quite simply, just don’t want to ski. I don’t want to learn. I don’t want to try it, because I won’t like it. And I’m tired of burying this part of myself under an avalanche of shame.

Around these parts, I could say something as unorthodox as “I’m part of Obama’s secret menagerie,” and the most severe response I might get is “Do you want another beer?” But for years I have repressed my entire lack of ski-lust, because other people get flayed with ski poles for admitting that they don’t ski.

I’ve seen it happen. It’s like a Choose Your Own Adventure novel:

Chapter 1: You are with a group of friends when one of them asks you, “Do you ski?” You sense that your entire future rests upon your answer. If you lie and say yes, go to Chapter 2. If you say no, go to Chapter 4.

Chapter 2: “What kind of skiing?” they ask in eerie unison. If you mumble words that might sound like skiing terms, go to Chapter 3. If you stare blankly, go to Chapter 4.

Chapter 3: “Come with us this weekend!” one of your friends says. “I have my old gear you can use if you need it, and if the kind of skiing you mumbled requires a lift ticket, my buddy will get you a discount.” You are forced into a corner, and rather than actually go skiing and make a fool of yourself, you admit that you do not ski. Go to Chapter 4.

Chapter 4: Your so-called friends gape at you. “You don’t?” they say. “Surely you must be mistaken. Everyone skis.” If you decide to backpedal, go to Chapter 2. If you decide to fake a serious ski-related injury, go to Chapter 5. If you stick to your guns, go to Chapter 6.

Chapter 5: Your friends offer you sympathy over your trashed ACL and suggest you go skiing together next winter. You have averted disaster for another year. The End.

Chapter 6: The pack of your former friends closes tightly around you. The light dims, and you welcome the inevitable onslaught. At least, in death, you will never again have to answer questions about skiing. The End.

This year, I am finished with choosing the same old adventures. I’m writing a new chapter, where I declare unabashedly that I choose not to ski and I will have tons of fun without paying for the privilege of breaking my femurs.

Holy powder days, what a liberating sensation this is. I’m going to declare all sorts of other things I’m supposed to like that I don’t! You ready for this? I don’t like New Year’s Eve. I don’t like the NFL. I don’t like that I don’t understand what the hell a “tapas” is. And I really dislike lists.

However, as many toddlers learn by the time they’re thirty or forty, “no” is way more powerful when it is coupled with the power of “yes.” Saying nein frees me to be loud and proud about also saying ja. If I am crystal clear about both what I like and what I don’t like, then I will live life true to myself, even if I lose my remaining acquaintances.

So what do I like? That is an excellent question, one I intend to spend much of the next year exploring. There must be lots of things in the world to enjoy beyond not skiing. Like not snowboarding, for instance. But for the present, it turns out I really, really enjoy just saying no to things.
​
So come on. Make my day. Ask me to ski, please, so I can turn you down. And if you don’t like my answer, then ask me again. Because I might give cross country a shot.

Thank you for reading Zach Hively and Other Mishaps. This post is public so feel free to share it.
Share

ashley.espinoza@dca.nm.gov

Santa Fe, NM — Folk art collectors and artists have donated treasures from their private collections for a public auction benefiting an endowment for Museum of International Folk Art (MOIFA) in Santa Fe. The silent auction event features more than 60 rare and high-value folk and fine art treasures from around the world and includes a celebratory party with entertainment. 

World of Treasures will be held March 9, 2024, from 6 – 8 p.m. at the museum. Admission is limited. Registration will be open to the public on January 25, 2024, and tickets can be found at https://WorldOfTreasures.eventbrite.com. 

In addition to the auction, folk art lovers can shop in the “Buy It Now” boutique offering one-of-a-kind items including ethnographic clothing representing designers from around the world and unusual folk art pieces from renowned regional and international folk art makers.  
Event co-chairs Jean Moss and Jerri Straight are thrilled with the auction offerings, all items donated by museum fans and friends. “We have assembled an amazing selection of beautiful and unusual treasures. The auction and boutique are filled with desirable examples of higher-end ethnographic art. We expect the bidding to be pretty competitive, but fun.” 
Guests will also enjoy food and beverages from around the globe, music by MOIFA Executive Director Charlie Lockwood, and an opportunity for an after-hours viewing of Multiple Visions: A Common Bond, the permanent exhibition donated and curated by architect and interior designer Alexander Girard.  

Throughout decades of traveling, Alexander Girard and his wife Susan assembled a premier collection of folk art—some 106,000 objects from 100 countries on six continents. In 1978, they generously donated the collection to MOIFA as a gift to the people of New Mexico. The Girard Foundation Collection formed the core of the museum’s holdings, with a selection of items being featured in Girard’s exhibition Multiple Visions: A Common Bond.  

Carmella Padilla, fund campaign supporter, validates the endowment’s importance. “The significance of Girard’s contributions to Museum of International Folk Art cannot be overstated. The collection that he and Susan donated to the museum, as well as his Multiple Visions installation, are central to MOIFA’s identity and popularity as an international art destination.” She adds, “His legacy as a designer and collector is part of the museum’s DNA, elevating folk art in the public eye like no one before. By benefiting the Girard Legacy Endowment Fund, the World of Treasures auction will help ensure that Girard’s vision is supported and cared for to endure for generations to come.” 

A few highlights of the silent auction include two pieces from contemporary sculptor, Max Lehman, donated two works of art from Santa Fe artist, Ivan Barnett, and a stunningly crafted South African Woven telephone wire basket donated by Santa Fe Collector, David Arment. 

About the Museum of International Folk Art 
The Museum of International Folk Art is a division of the Department of Cultural Affairs, under the leadership of the Board of Regents for the Museum of New Mexico. Programs and exhibits are generously supported by the International Folk Art Foundation and Museum of New Mexico Foundation. The mission of The Museum of International Folk Art is to shape a humane world by connecting people through creative expression and artistic traditions. The museum holds the largest collection of international folk art in the world, numbering more than 130,000 objects from more than 100 countries. 
 About Friends of Folk Art 
Friends of Folk Art is a group of Museum of New Mexico Foundation members who love folk art. They promote it through tours, trips and social and cultural events related to folk art. All proceeds benefit exhibitions and educational programming at the Museum of International Folk Art. 

Salvador Ruiz, Cofounder and Executive Director of Moving Arts Española, Presented with Congressional Record and Honored by Congresswoman Teresa Leger Fernandez

Salvador Ruiz, Cofounder and Executive Director of Moving Arts Española, Presented with
Congressional Record and Honored by Congresswoman Teresa Leger Fernandez
ESPAÑOLA, N.M. – Salvador Ruiz, 2022 Univisionario recipient, Executive Director and
Co-Founder of Moving Arts Española was presented with a prestigious accolade on February 20,
2024. Congresswoman Teresa Leger Fernandez, representing District 3, presented Salvador Ruiz
the Congressional Record from Tuesday, June 13, 2023, in recognition of his outstanding
contributions to his community through his exemplary work at Moving Arts Española.

The presentation, held at Moving Arts Española, was a momentous occasion attended by the
students, families and instructors of Moving Arts Española. Congresswoman Leger Fernandez
personally visited the facility and engaged with the students and families benefiting from Ruiz's steadfast leadership. As a token of appreciation for his dedication and impact, she presented Ruiz with a flag flown over the United States Capitol.

Humbled and deeply honored, Ruiz expressed that this recognition belongs to the entire
community. He reiterated his commitment to serving and uplifting the community through the
transformative power of the arts.

Congresswoman Leger Fernandez applauded the work of Moving Arts Española, emphasizing
its pivotal role in fostering creativity, empowerment, and positive change. Some of the most
amazing things we do in our community are made possible through the dedication and passion of organizations like Moving Arts Española, remarked Congresswoman Leger Fernandez.

Under the leadership of Salvador Ruiz since opening in 2008, Moving Arts Española has been
instrumental in providing access to arts education, promoting cultural enrichment, and
empowering youth to reach their full potential. Through innovative programs and collaborative
initiatives, the organization continues to make a profound and lasting impact on the lives of
countless individuals.

The recognition bestowed upon Salvador Ruiz is a testament to his dedication to creating a
brighter and more inclusive future through the arts. Moving Arts Española congratulates
Salvador on this well-deserved honor and looks forward to continuing its mission of enriching
lives and strengthening communities.
​
To donate to Moving Arts Española, donations can be mailed to: Moving Arts Española, PO Box
505, Velarde, NM 87582. Donations are tax-deductible.