New Mexico Department of Cultural Affairs welcomes you to subscribe and support our state’s cultural treasures.
Sunrise, accept this offering. Sunrise. –From Ceremony, by Leslie Marmon Silko Part I: Sunsetting The end is full of waiting. Of willful meandering. The kind that compels you to put candles of too many varieties into your cart, despite your fear of fire.
To arrive at SITE SANTA FE’s 12th International: Once Within a Time installations at the Palace of the Governors, a visitor must first proceed through a series of doorways. Following an uncanny eyeline best suited for a dream sequence in a Hitchcock thriller, the eerie recursion within this ancient structure creates the sensation of re-entering the same room again and again.
On a warm August morning about 150 years ago, the people who lived on the sandstone promontory above Di’ Chuuna would have looked east at the slumbering lines of Kaweshtima. Even with the summer harvest underway, they might have wondered when snow would start draping the mountain.
I’m going to Spaceport America. To access the spaceport, I’ll have to cross the Jornada del Muerto, a desert basin cut by a hundred-mile road. I calculate and the Jornada del Muerto is longer than the distance between the edge of space and my body on land.
Space is a shapeshifting throughline in Daisy Atterbury’s book The Kármán Line. There’s space as in I need some—a lover pulling away. There’s space misread as emptiness, as in the vast expanses of deserts and oceans, open space where governments detonate practice bombs.
"Can the class touch your hair?” I was sitting in my high school sophomore year of U.S. History when I first heard of the Buffalo Soldiers. It was a rare moment in my Indiana education when we touched on African American history that took us beyond or outside of victimhood.
By Gina Rae La Cerva One of Cynthia Burke’s many creative endeavors is hosting a radio show for her town of two hundred people in the Australian outback. Called “CB” by her friends, she loves playing country and gospel music ranging from the 1950s to 2000s.
What does it mean to build a museum? For video maker and interdisciplinary artist Chris E. Vargas, building a museum means critiquing the institution itself, where the museum as an artifact interrogates the power of its presence, questions its authority, and reveals its limitations.
By Jamie Figueroa Green, yellow, and red outline three edges of the canvas. The flat expanse of turquoise sky holds a small, distant sun. Red, orange, then yellow—circle inside of circle inside of circle—black thin spokes reaching from its circumference.
BY DR. MATTHEW J. MARTINEZ Querencia: Reflections on the New Mexico Homeland (University of New Mexico Press, 2020) provides an insightful collection of essays that serve as a testament to the beauty of our state.
