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Today's Features

  • Filmmaker Romaine Fielding fell in love with New Mexico’s endless sky, with her territorial bustle. At the turn of the last century, residents of Las Vegas reported seeing him roam the dusty Plaza dressed in an expensive wool coat, his mustache carefully clipped and waxed, the epitome of Hollywood glamour. Fielding wrote and directed some of the first movie Westerns, some of them filmed in San Miguel County.

  • Jane Lumsden lifted one of her sculptures, a bronze bat, his wings extended in flight. A centipede dangled from his mouth, life-like, arched in surrender. Lumsden ran her hand over the bat’s head, across his back.

  • UWC Theatre Instructor Tim Crofton handed me a wrapped fortune cookie last Saturday night. I pierced the cellophane with my teeth, let the cookie tumble into one hand. Sixty pairs of nervous eyes watched as I cracked the brittle treat and read the message out loud.

    “Look at the moon. Show only your bright side to the world.”

  • Last summer, I bought a copy of Rilke’s Duino Elegies translated into English from the original German. I read it, enjoyed it, and stored it away in my brain until sometime last week, when I happened to see it sitting on my bookshelf. I began rereading it and was enjoying it a second time when I temporarily misplaced my book. I wasn’t terribly worried about it, because I knew that this particular series of poems was pretty famous and could be found online without much hassle.

  • This weekend, the Kluge Auditorium at the United World College will swell with frustration, laughter, and time-driven panic as 60 students and members of the Las Vegas community stare at blank sheets of paper, willing words to coalesce from the high altitude, from a few props and sheer hope. Theatre Arts Instructor Tim Crofton maniacally grins as he explains the 24-Hour Playwriting Project.

  • A bird gripped the delicate stem of a chokecherry bush, his back the color of unbroken sky, his chest the rust echo of New Mexican twilight. He flitted to a small wooden box fixed upon an old propane pipe. Claudia Daigle, a Western Bluebird expert based in Eldorado, smiled as she described her love for her small backyard creatures.

  • A bearded man lightly plucks a deceptively simple arpeggio on his guitar. His voice carries a coat of cannon oil, carries the echo of guns set aside for one December night. The melody is vintage John McCutcheon — tight, rhythmic, with gentle curves around minor corners. The lyrics are poignant, peaceful, the story of the Christmas Truce of 1914 on the Western and Eastern fronts of World War I.

  • Don’t people get tired of saying “hi” to each other every day? It’s like a replay, over and over again, except you’ve changed clothes, your hair might or might not be different, and you’ve aged. The aging isn’t necessarily noticeable, maybe at most, you’ve lost a few more hairs that will never grow back, or a couple of extra wrinkles have inserted themselves on your face. Subtle changes which are only noticeable over time.

  • The National Park Service and Fort Union National Monument announces its monthly “Glimpses of the Past” presentation entitled We Find Ourselves in the Middle: Navajo Relocation and Relocatee-Host Conflicts The talk discusses the relations between Navajo relocatees from the Former Joint Use Area, their initial relations with their Navajo reservation hosts, the various disputes that ensued, and the long term impacts of the relocation.

  • New Year’s Eve is one of my favorite holidays, but it always seems to let me down. Some time around November, I begin to anticipate the coming of the new year, imagining that it will contain only good news and happy surprises. In order to ring in such a magnificent year, I imagine, I will have to attend a rather lavish party at which very hip, young people will drink sparkling cider and wear shiny New Year’s Eve party hats to match their sequined dresses (men in this daydream simply wear tuxes and top hats).