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For over a century, El Palacio has been a forum for voices exploring New Mexico’s art, archaeology, history, and landscape. Explore the writers, photographers, historians, and scientists whose perspectives have defined the magazine’s pages—past and present.
Arthur Sze is the current U.S. Poet Laureate. Sze is a poet, translator, and editor. He is the author of twelve books, including Into the Hush, Sight Lines, and others. Sze’s poems have been translated into fifteen languages, and he is the recipient of the National Book Award among many other honors. He lives in Santa Fe.
Deborah Jackson Taffa is a citizen of the Quechan Nation and Laguna Pueblo. Her memoir Whiskey Tender was a 2024 National Book Award Finalist and was longlisted for the 2025 Carnegie Medal for Excellence in Nonfiction. Taffa serves as the director of the MFA in creative writing program at the Institute of American Indian Arts.
Cara Romero is an award-winning contemporary fine art photographer. An enrolled citizen of the Chemehuevi Indian Tribe, Romero’s expansive oeuvre has been informed by formal training in film, digital, fine art, and commercial photography. She maintains a studio in Santa Fe, regularly participates in Native American art fairs, and was featured in PBS’ Craft in America (2019).
Chela Lujan (opens in a new tab) is an artist, activist, and mother who gathers inspiration from her Chicana and N’dee roots, and from an upbringing on the Diné Nation. She resides in Southern Colorado where she runs a small-batch folk medicine and beadwork business.
![A silver necklace with large round beads and squash blossom motifs, featuring a central circular pendant with two turquoise stones, displayed on a black stand. [gen-ai]](https://elpalacio.org/wp-content/uploads/2025/12/Case6_MIAC_24-Edit-400x225.jpg)
By Chela Lujan I am grateful for the land, for my hands. Grateful for the browned earth hardened by the sun, scented with chamisa and sage after the rain. Palms thick as groves of chokecherry, gnarled fingers like piñon, they are an extension of my Creator and my creation. Worn with lines like wind-carved arroyos, their cracks collect dust from silver and stone which lie waiting to be turned and pulled like water moving through old acequias.
