I paint silk, throw pots and collage poetry books & cards in my enchanted adobe studio in Pilar, New Mexico.

At the Sacred Heart Cafe, I make art to feed the hungry heart. Open all night, a warm place to wander and browse, savor and enjoy.

Wednesday, February 23, 2011

Mama Rio

Our old adobe home is located near the Rio Grande, close enough to see her waters glinting through the winterbare willows and cottonwoods.  We stay pretty close to home most days, fishing and photographing the river, making art, watching the ever changing sky and land.  Once a week or so we drive up the highway to Taos to visit the hardware store or down the mountain to Dixon's co-op and magnificent community library.  On rare occasions we drive to Santa Fe to pay homage to Trader Joe.  We did that this morning, and it dawned on me that when I travel too far from the Rio Grande, I really miss her.  She is a big mama river, and I just feel better when I'm close to her.  This surprised me as we drove back up the canyon.  I saw myself craning to see the first view of her as we passed the Velarde orchards, then breathed a sigh of relief when the highway sidled up to her near Embudo.  Home, again, in the arms of my mama rio.  

When we lived on the California coast, I enjoyed seeing and hearing the ocean nearby, but this feeling for my mama is different, more visceral, more intimate.  I'm just learning about this connection, and I suspect that my mama will be teaching me more about it, day by day.

1 comment:

Amey said...

Living in the lap of Mama Rio...your days sound lovely, mara with the Rio wrapping her bends around you...

PattyMara's Sacred Heart Cafe's Fan Box

Micaceous Clay Pottery from DolphinSmile Studio

Micaceous Clay Pottery from DolphinSmile Studio
click on the photo to go to my online shop for mica clay cups, bowls, Sacred Hearts and jewelry

The Value of Play in Creativity

"The creation of something new is not accomplished by the intellect but by the play instinct acting from inner necessity. The creative mind plays with the objects it loves."

C. G. Jung