Southwestern Run

So where was I? I checked out of the emergency room, none the wiser and checked into my hotel on Cerillos which fulfilled all of my basic needs admirably, clogged sink and rust spots notwithstanding.

Hooked up with Friedman and we went to Piccolino for dinner, the first of three trips to the local's only Italian joint with great food, portions and an extensive menu. I had veal francese the first night. Place is a godsend. And cheap.

Next day I met Joseph at Linda at La Fonda for my annual trout breakfast. The server agreed to give me the blue corn batter rather than the new oatmeal, which I detest. Always great to catch up with them. 

Chris Lusher had a really nice auction at the Santa Fe Woman's Club on Tuesday.

I bought some good stuff including two weavings, a painting, jewelry and this beautiful early Tonto Apache 21" tray.

The painting was too big to store in the van all week and my archaeologist friend Ron Winters let me take it to his house to keep it out of harm's way.

This is he and his wife Lisa's beautiful backyard you see behind me.

I usually only have two must see galleries in Santa Fe and I stopped at both of them, Nat Owings and Zaplin Lampert.

Both have the most exquisite material and have had the best forever.

Show drop off was Thursday and I waited for my allotted time slot and started setting up.

In the new post John Morris reality my booth in Santa Fe is a third of what it once was, even smaller than Albuquerque, but I managed to somehow fit lots of good stuff into my eight x ten postage stamp.

We all tend to hold back our greatest stuff for Whitehawk and I did.

I had a great selection of baskets, beadwork, silver and paintings.

I sold in all categories to a very knowledgable collector base, some of whom I go back with thirty years or more.

Sold a native woman a Bettina Steinke painting that she posed for when she was sixteen, she is eighty three today.

Sold her ex husband one of his paintings back too, they were both delighted.

Made some people happy and I was happy. Cut my prices in half but it didn't matter.

Do you see the pot on the third shelf with the Zuni frogs?

It was thrown by Cochiti potter Teresita Romero in the 1950's. I sold it back to her grandson Mateo through Mark Sublette.

George Lopez and Gloria Lopez Cordova

I sold my saltillo and found another one, later but still beautiful.

Sold that too.

I have been buying up some beautiful baskets. 

Basket prices have been falling of late but they had been ridiculously expensive.

There was a Carrie Bethell at the show that Wayne Thompson had once paid a million dollars for.

Now prices have become more affordable and I am buying the great ones that I can afford. 

They are too beautiful and precious to ignore.

What did Buffet say? 

Be fearful when they are greedy and greedy when they are fearful.

I am buying some great baskets right now, Yokuts, Kawaiisu, Washoe and Pomo. 

Bought a rare Mono Lake Paiute woven by Alice Wilson, Lucy Telles sister.

It was a work trip and I am a one man show and just kept merrily plugging along to the very end. 

I did well as did my longtime cohorts Steve and John.

I was probably low man on the totem but not by much. Booth was always full and humming along.

It was a strange week in the sense that I never made it to the plaza, or the Plaza Cafe, or Pasquales or many of the things I normally do. Stuck with the Pantry, Piccolino and Harry's. 

Here is a pic of the pork loin at Piccolino, they don't mess around.

They also made a great spinach salad with apricots, walnuts and feta.

Went out to Boca Taverna with Winters, Stoops and the Dodges one night, also to Paloma with Ron and Lisa.

Stayed away from the expensive joints and never made it to the Santa Cafe for the first time in memory.

Toward the end of the show a guy who I had photographed years ago came walking by with a weaving to sell.

It was a 19th century Germantown but almost resembled a Pennsylvania quilt. Condition is awful and needs more money than I have to make right but I bought it anyway.

Because I always favor design over condition. Now it helps to have both but give me something imperfect that actually says something over the inverse any day.

Later I met the person who sold it to this guy, Ernesto, he said it came out of Colorado. I love it, it is folk art and would be surprised if I had it forever. Too pretty.

Here are a couple more pictures from the shows.

Terry DeWald

Jamie Compton, a favorite booth

Alston's killer Germantown

The minimalist Mr. Cleary

Voracek

Farr

Traut

Smoot

Gallegos

Of course the people make the show and I go back with some of these traders a long way.

It's hard work and it definitely takes its toll but I love it and have never looked back.

The prednisone definitely kept me in the game but it was a small dose and it ran out quickly. I ended up green and running on fumes.

I had been promised move out help but it never materialized and I was totally beat up at the end, did it myself.

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Took off back to Gallup early the next day, for a lunch at Don Diegos, only non native there. Had the sheepherder.

Figured out something, get it with green chile, not the red, The red in Gallup is so hot it will kill you.

I made a serious mistake and stayed at the Twin Arrows outside of Flag that night. Wandered too close to the slots and had a serious bloodletting. Fessed up to my wife and said Never Again.

Did have the lamb stew and fry bread which wasn't bad.

*

Took off the next day and stopped in Seligman. GPS said take the 17 to Phoenix but it was 117° there and I wasn't in the mood.

Was almost into my burger and eggs when the power went off. Cook finished it by braille. 

They shut the doors and I had the last flush in the biffy before I was back on the road.

So everything is cool and I'm heading for Barstow when I get the dumb idea of asking SIRI for the fastest way home.

I'm by the inspection station and it says turn here on five mile road. Really? Puts me on the 95 to Blythe and then somewhere near the Chemehuevi reservation and then I am in no mans land, no idea, on the 62, like a peyote trip without the pretty colors or the holy message, just stress at being lost in the absolute unforsaken spot in nowhere.

Takes me about ten hours to finally pull in my driveway.

Probably won't do that again.