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Features

  • Karoline Puentes’s voice remains level as she talks about the night a young man named Rodrigo Baca attacked her, left her for dead on the side of dimly lit Santa Fe street.

    “He beat me nearly to death, leaving me permanently disabled. It took me months to recover some sense of normal life.”

  • I don’t actually know what purpose a class song is supposed to serve, but if I had to guess I would say that it is intended to give that particular class a warm wave of nostalgia anytime they hear it, to serve as a reminder of their high school memories any time they happen to stumble upon it on the radio.

    Most songs chosen to be class songs seem destined for the job. They are songs about saying goodbye, growing up, or moving on.

  • Cristina Gonzlez first noticed a change in light when she moved to New Mexico from Seattle after being awarded a Roswell Artist-in-Residence Program grant in 1998.

    “My color changed immediately once I moved to Roswell. The light in New Mexico is very distinct. Unusual. I was painting with heavy blues and grays - the hues of the cloudy northwest sky - but immediately switched to yellows, reds, the vibrant colors of the desert landscape. It wasn’t a conscious switch.”

  • I want to share with you today a message that I have put together based on an article I read a few years ago that appeared in “New Man Magazine,” a Christian magazine for men. It was entitled, “Tell Your Daughter, Quit Tempting My Son” and was written by a pastor named Jody Vickery. It had an interesting premise and I have wanted to share his message since I first read it.

  • The year 1905. Planet earth twisted through its annual elliptical path, the sun one sure comfort in a tumultuous existence. The Russian Revolution began with the slaughter of unarmed demonstrators in St. Petersburg. Albert Einstein revealed his theory of special relativity and explained the photoelectric effect by quantization. The Wright Brothers pilot the first successful half-hour aeroplane trip. 1905 was a strange year for Mark Twain, too.

  • My grandpa was a strong man with eyes that changed colors according to what he wore. He was born Dave Patrocinio Romero and was raised in the area known as EL Cherry, between Romeroville and Los Montoyas.

  • There is a whole other world out there for those who choose to travel across an ocean and visit another country. From different electric plugs and voltage to dealing with liters and kilometers to the way toilets flush, core rules that govern our lives in the United States are completely different. This summer my family was able to visit Switzerland, Italy, and England.

    It was our first trip to Europe. Each of these countries has their own natural beauty. But the way each country does things sure opened up our minds.

  • The road to Mount Calvary Cemetery rolls two miles from the Las Vegas Plaza. It rolls into an acre, two acres, 50 acres of homegrown tobacco, pain,  of buried man, woman, and child. Pecos resident Lucia Martinez walked, a vase of dried sage in her left hand, from her cousin’s home on Gonzales.

  • Danielle Benavidez gently lifted a delicate skull carved from hardened sugar. She nodded toward a wooden table sprinkled with confectioner’s dust. An array of bony figures with tiny outstretched arms rested in neat rows.

    “These are my sugar babies.” Benavidez said. She pressed a fingernail into the base of the skull. “My students will fill their cradles with little skeletons.”

  • My mother hates road trips. Ask her about them and she will be delighted to tell you about how tiring it is to drive for such long amounts of time (particularly through places like Iowa, where the scenery seems unchanging and the road could easily continue until the ). end of time

    She will explain to you in full detail the boredom and irritability that accompanies her on these long drives. She will try her hardest to make you understand that no matter what her teenage daughter may say, there is nothing particularly thrilling or fascinating about road trips.

  • If you have lived in these parts for any period of time, you have likely heard talk of chicos, often in conjunction with beans, as in “chicos and beans.” But if you are not from these parts, you may not have any idea of what chicos are or why they are doted upon by so many.

    Chicos are kernels of sweet corn which have been roasted on the ear in an outdoor, wood-fired adobe oven called an horno (pronounced orno, the “h” is silent) and then hung by the husks and dried.

  • Roots of Resistance

    A History of Land Tenure in New Mexico

    Roxanne Dunbar-Ortiz

    forward by Simon J. Ortiz

    ISBN 978-0-8061-3833-6

    First published in 1980, this new edition is no amateur effort but a really professional, researched and documented history of land ownership. Roots of Resistance is well worth reading, especially for the scholar of history and economics.

  • Fall is coming once again, and it is time for those of us who garden to consider sheet mulching.

    Sheet mulching is a low-cost solution to a variety of gardening problems — it builds topsoil, retains moisture in the ground, provides nutrients for cultivated plants, and greatly reduces the growth of weeds. It is also a good way to recycle old newspapers.

  • Susan Livermore worked as a full-time painter until her husband, artist-blacksmith Christopher Thomson, found himself in need of a strong business manager to handle the growing interest in his architectural pieces. Susan placed her paintings in a quiet corner of their sprawling home and began taking classes in business administration.

    “That was 22 years ago,” Livermore said. “We took a chance. We lived on my husband’s art all these years — it’s been our only income.”

  • “Clearly Abstract” is the title of the latest art show at Tito’s Gallery which will be shown through October. More than 20 works by eight artists are featured in the exhibit.

    The comic book artist Al Hollingsworth (1928-2000) who drew for Strange Worlds and others, is represented by a non-objective piece “Sun Slate” (ca. 1978) which, until recently hung in a local Las Vegas office.

  • A few weeks ago I was outside of my front porch, bestowed with the sky’s changing landscape and beauty. It had rained earlier; the air was cool and fresh, and the ground was damp and soft. It was a nice change compared to the scorching nights plaguing Las Vegas for the past few weeks. The moon looked full, but I knew that it wasn’t, because I had been in my astronomy class earlier that day, and I knew that it was actually a new moon.