First stop was The International Museum of Folk Art. Beautifully situated in a plaza that houses several cultural institutions as well as The Museum Hill Café. Another wonderfully unfriendly Santa Fean greets me at the entrance and takes no time out of her day to explain the New Mexico Cultural Pass to me. So I figure out on my own that for thirty dollars I can visit four museums in Santa Fe and save a few bucks over individual admission prices. I ask her for my twenty dollar bill back as I've changed my mind and want to purchase the $30 pass with my credit card, instead of just paying to come to this museum today. Eye-rolling and a bit of huffing come my way, and the transaction is finally done. She does not proffer me any advice as to where to begin, that a docent tour is about to begin, or even a map. It is a good thing I know how to read signage and have a workable sense of direction.
I join in on the docent tour which is really a quick walking overview of the floorplan and a bit of history about the exhibits. The docent leaves us at the Tramp Art Exhibit, and I wander through. This is quite fascinating. Incredible boxes, wall hangings and furniture made from discarded wood, cardboard boxes - even peach pits. While most of the religious references were Christian oriented, I did admire this Tramp Art box with Judaica.
The largest exhibit is an overwhelming display in a large room that has a mazelike traffic flow. This are miniatures, and dioramas of life in other lands from other times. It is brightly lit and I can only look at so much before I feel like my brain needs a break! I liked the exploration into what is folk art. It reminded me of the poetry discussion I attended titled Anti-Literary or Literary. Who defines art? This is why, as a writer, I visit museums that hold visual art. It is a source for writing and brain stimulation. And while I often write something seemingly unrelated to what I witnessed the connections are there. Somewhere.
Next stop is the Museum of Indian Arts and Culture, just across the courtyard. Here I am warmly greeted - yay - by a nice man who tells me the best way to see this museum and what not to miss. He stamps my newly purchased passport and sends me on my way.
What I love about this museum are the words that are displayed alongside the art. A poets dream. The musicality and passion is palpable. I read several passages more than once, closing my eyes and feeling the words, instead of just scanning them.
My favorite exhibit of the day is contemporary display by Frank Buffalo Hyde. I fell in love with this artist, his message and his artwork. I watched the short film about him, and I want to know more. Isn't that what art is supposed to do? Make us think and leave us thirsting for more?
Yesterday I travelled the short drive down Cerillos Rd., made a couple of quick turns and landed in front of Meow Wolf. It didn't seem too crowded, food trucks peppered the parking lot, and a giant spider sculpture let me know I had arrived. There was no line, which I would later learn is a rare occurrence, and I pay my 20+ bucks to enter the House Of Eternal Return.
I used to work in a 150,000 square foot family fun center in Colorado Springs. I immediately spot the cosmic bowling carpet in the lobby area... ah, that and the bowling pin sign clue me in. This space is a former bowling alley.
I enter through a forest of neon trees and I am again mildly reminded that at Mr. Biggs there was a day-glo indoor mini-golf. It is cool, but I've been there before, albeit with little kids swinging golf clubs. There is so much to see here. The front desk gal said it takes about 1.5 hours and I spend about twice that exploring.
It is hard to keep track of where I have been and which way to go to see something new, but I suspect that I managed to see much of what is here. This fun-house for hipsters needs to be experienced first hand. I made no attempt to solve the underlying mystery which is the predicate for this art installation. My mind was busy absorbing the visuals, and it left me little brain power to do anything else. In fact when I left the space, I needed to be outside, alone and in quietude.
My fifteen minute meditation in this mirrored small space. My head and feet are touching the walls. I entered through an ice machine.
In the car park - my favorite sighting of the day! And a very good reminder that it is...
Time to Write,
Jane
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