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Features

  • Solar energy systems are good for the environment and good for your wallet. For every kilowatt-hour of electricity generated by solar energy instead of a coal-fired power plant, greenhouse gas emissions are reduced by two pounds of carbon dioxide (CO2) and three-quarters of a gallon of water is saved.

  • The first thing that strikes the listener is that the woman’s voice is stone cold melodic, even, unafraid. She stands at a microphone, her head cocked to one side as she interlaces curt words, deliberate ideas, into a rug tightly-woven enough to carry weight. Her gestures suggest necessary defiance, the aural transfer of sacred inalienable truth.

  • I'm sitting on the floor next to the woodstove listening to the radio

    it's bringing me voices of protest against the war

    tens of thousands from all over the country

    angry

    righteous

    drumming voices

    when slowly i begin to weep

    seep

    then im sobbing bent forward into my hands it all comes rushing out of my

    shoulders out of my spine

    which must be where ive been putting all of those endless stories of death

    the 8.4 billion a month spent

    the seemingly unstoppable abuse of power

  • As three movies were filming in town last month I came to realize that the world has discovered our secret, and how great Las Vegas really is.

    When I drive down Seventh and Eighth streets, I see rows of Victorian homes. On the west side of town there are hundreds of traditional southwestern homes, which show off the architecture of the original Las Vegas. I am told that the same houses in another part of the country would cost five to 10 times as much and that the Victorians would be priced at least $1 million.

  • My Polish grandma died five years ago. Babcia lived in the middle apartment of a triple tenement house in New England for all of her married life. She worked all those years, too, in a beat-up shoe factory she called the “coop.” When I was a kid, I thought she meant it like a chicken coop, a place of barbed wire and rows of feathered ladies like hens producing shiny patent leather inventory. Later I learned it was really short for The Cooperative. Babcia spent long days drilling tiny holes into men’s wing- tipped shoes. She was an artist.

  • A middle-aged women sits on a rugged brick floor, arms folded tightly across her chest, a thick plaid blanket tucked around her waist. A corner of white fabric lies next to her, suggesting a selection of unseen tooled silver, perhaps tiny spiral earrings, or delicate belt conchos in the shape of the zia. Her slightly pained expression speaks of fatigue, of crisp Santa Fe air. Deborah Paisner’s oil painting, “Carol at the Palace of Governors,” examines contemplation, waiting, longing — the emotions of time, the emotions of every working woman.

  • The National Park Service and Fort Union National Monument announces its monthly “Glimpses of the Past” presentation entitled “Footlights in the Foothills, A Glimpse of the Theatrical Past of Las Vegas and Fort Union.”

  • “It’s bigger, and people are appreciating the roominess” said Nancy Colalillo, owner of Tome on the Range.

    It’s no surprise. Tome on the Range relocated to much roomier digs last Friday, and the new space, at 158 Bridge Street, is not just bigger, it’s better.

    The first improvement is in used books. Tome on the Range specialized in new books, with its sister store, Second Tome Around, focusing on used books. But Second Tome Around closed last year.

  • Holy Week begins Sunday with an event chronicled in all four Gospels — Palm Sunday, a remembrance of Jesus’ triumphal entry into Jerusalem, when people lining the road pressed their best cloaks, pressed branches of small trees into the dry earth before him in a gesture of admiration and respect.

    Today, Catholics hold stark green blessed palm fronds, or boughs of native trees, during Palm Sunday Mass as they participate in the Lord’s Passion, a recital of Jesus’ last steps before death and resurrection.

  • A good friend of mine often says that anything is possible, but not everything is possible. This will probably never be as clear as it is at 17 and 18. Let me explain.

  • New Mexico Department of Agriculture (NMDA) announced today that funding will be available under the New Mexico Specialty Crops Program. Funds are available to New Mexico organizations and individuals that have a long-term commitment to improving the economic viability of New Mexico’s rural economy or have projects with a significant value-added potential.

  • The Taos County Economic Development Corporation, or TCEDC, has a mobile Matanza which slaughters beef, pigs and sheep for ranchers and can have them packaged for sale to consumers. The Matanza will travel as far south as Las Vegas, and can slaughter and hang up to 16 head of beef at a time.

  • Four New Mexico Highlands music students will perform in the Thomas Mishler Scholarship Recital at 3 p.m. March 9 in Kennedy Lounge.

    Each year, music students compete for this esteemed scholarship by submitting a resume of their musical experience and an essay describing what music means to them. References from professors and other community members are included in the application. Members of the music department, along with Professor Robert Mishler and his wife Ann, review the candidates and make their selections.

  • The first time Tig Notaro stood in front of a microphone, she didn’t consider the likely possibility the audience would be laughing.

    “I was just trying to get through what I had memorized,” Notaro said. “I was nervous, that’s for sure.”

    The possibility of laughter would mean, for most performers, exit, stage right, don’t come back. For Notaro, it meant the beginning of a successful career with performances in comedy club icons like The Improv, The Punchline, Catch a Rising Star and The Comedy Store.

  • Teresa Victor stood, feet planted on the rugged slopes of Cuzco, the capital of the sun-worshiping Inca empire, the spot on earth with the highest ultraviolet light level. This was her third trip to Peru. On a previous trip, she hiked the Inca Trail, the twenty-eight mile ancient road to Macchu Piccu, in nearly impassable terrain high above the Urubamba River canyon cloud forest.

  • My family and I traveled to El Paso for a tennis tournament, but it is the memories of other adventures that I brought back to Las Vegas. We left to El Paso on Friday afternoon and immediately encountered a metal forest. Actually, just west of Santa Rosa, there are about 100 gigantic windmills. They looked like the giant machines from War of the Worlds. It was surreal. We stopped in Vaughn and I had one of the best root beer floats at this restaurant, which looked like an aluminum travel trailer.

  • Snow tries to break the sky, but the clouds hold firm, hold back everything but a dusting of flurries. An armful of ducks dodge the snowflakes, sending a series of rhythmic quacks against thawing ground.

    Spring sends her first hints through feathered messengers, through the choreographed movements of birds traveling home. This Sunday, the Friends of the Las Vegas Wildlife Refuge are sponsoring a free lecture and slideshow on the coming fury of the skies, “Migrating Birds of the Central Flyway.”

  • Douglas Avenue changed overnight. The Coen Brothers’ film crew fixed simple red and white plastic lettering to a vacant office building, adding geriatric walkers, tightly wound ACE bandages, and the promise of pharmacological discount in a carefully orchestrated window display.

  • Two years ago, I was a high school sophomore with no cell phone. Almost everyone I knew had one, but I wasn’t terribly jealous. I lived in a small town and went to a small school. It wasn’t difficult to get a hold of me, and I didn’t think I really needed a cell phone.

  • Four people float in a rain-reminiscent sky, simple grins lighting round faces, arms extended past swollen bodies the colors of spring grass.

    They fly in harmony, in silly joyous formation, a family of Macy’s Parade balloons, perhaps, or a collection of free-wheeling cartoon thought bubbles. Rick Mobbs’ study in watercolors, “Flying,” offers a glimpse into captured serenity, but the artist’s vocation began in a place far from calm.