land of enchantment

New Mexico Gothic

  • The mountains are named Sangre de Cristo, “Blood of Christ.” You think it’s metaphorical. You’re not certain.
  • The coyotes are crying outside. They sound close. The coyotes are crying outside. They sound closer. The coyotes are crying outside.
  • Everyone you know has a cow skull decorating their house. There is a cow skull hanging in your living room. It wasn’t there yesterday. You don’t know where it came from.
  • Fat summer clouds are rolling in over the purple mountains, brown hills, and green river valleys. The scene looks like a painting. You realize you can’t move. You are frozen. You are also part of the painting.
  • “Don’t play in the arroyos,” they said. Everyone knows not to play in the arroyos. You never knew why. Now you wish you didn’t.
  • You get a flat tire and pull over to the side of the road. As you kneel down to remove the flat, suddenly you are surrounded by armed guards. They want to know what you’re doing there. Behind them, chain link fences rise improbably high, with concertina wire wound around their tops, seeking to tear open the heavens and rain down the secrets of the universe. The guards are still pointing their rifles at you as you put on the spare tire. They do not offer to help.
  • The sand dunes are white, pure white, stretching in all directions. In the distance there’s a mushroom cloud rising up from the horizon. The wind is screaming against your face. Your skin is starting to burn.

MAP OF NEW MEXICO, 1904
Wheatpaste poster measuring 18” X 22.1”


Detailed map of the Territory, colored by Counties, showing towns, Indian Tribes, Reservations and related details, railroads, railroad stations, post offices, rivers, forts and other places of interest. . 

R.I.S.E.:

RADICAL

INDIGENOUS
SURVIVANCE &
EMPOWERMENT

contact/info:
burymyart@gmail.com
http://burymyart.tumblr.com
http://facebook.com/RISEindigenous
_______________________________.

“The City of the Crosses” Las Cruces, New Mexico where I live. Taken from the back of a pick-up truck. I don’t know what it is about the sunsets, I don’t know if it’s the way they light hits all the the hills and grooves as it sets but every day is a beautiful sunset, prettiest than anywhere I’ve ever been. I too often take them for granted.