Just call me Scheherazade. I'm sitting on the tile patio of a fanciful New Mexico inn with a glass of red wine, green chile salsa and blue tortilla chips. There are farolitos on the roof ledge and the window frames are painted Santa Fe turquoise. Just behind me is a romantic wrought iron gate leading to a courtyard with, of course, a fountain, a swing, and more flower pots and blue doors. There is a second floor to this inn, lending it an even more protected air.
Our room has been designed by the Arabian nights....there is more tile and mosaic than I have ever seen before. There is a curtained skylight and and an embroidered coverlet to the bed that could have employed a dozen seamstresses. Carved columns at least pretend to hold up the beamed ceiling.
We spent this afternoon wandering hither and yon along the narrow streets of Santa Fe. The crowd is a hodge podge of punks, families and would be beautiful people. At least we imagine them to be beautiful people. We watch them trying on designer leather and window shop the dozens of jewelry stores. We are shameless about strolling the galleries of art that we like, pretending we could find a home for a 3/4 size bronze buffalo in the front yard or Remington wannabe bronze in our entry way. Blake would look great in a big hat and I could luxuriate in a leather jacket and silver and jasper bracelets.
I have a couple of goals for this trip. We have been blessed with warm, sunny days with beautiful Western light. Task one, already accomplished. I have visited San Felipe de Neri in Old Town of Albuquerque, San Miguel in Santa Fe and hope to see several more lovely mission churches before we leave. In Old Town yesterday afternoon, I was irresistibly drawn to a black and white photograph of a white cross and a weathered white church in Golden, New Mexico. That churchyard is on for tomorrow; I need to find it. Georgia O'Keefe painted the churches of New Mexico, and therein lies my third goal: visiting her museum up here in Santa Fe.
This has nothing to do with my real life. It has everything to do with the life of the mind, with imagination, with stepping into this other place with my closest companion and having these days to unwrap later on together.
Hmmm..I will fulfill one familiar task tomorrow. I'll still make a little cute pot of coffee in our elegant room. There are even real pottery cups (turquoise, of course). We'll shower in that amazing bathroom with the mosaic birds and flowers in the shower stall. We'll have someone fix us breakfast and then visit some museums and take some more pictures of odd looking people and walk alot and bask in the sun, shadows, and mountain views. I have my eye on a pottery shop with interesting plates, but I REALLY want to visit the shop with little cowgirl and cowboy vests and skirts. Don't know what I can fit in my luggage.
I may have to be a magician yet.
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