Taos, Hot Springs, and Swimming the Rio Grande


Was in Taos earlier this month.  Came in from the west over that insane Gorge, then  hiked to the hot springs at the bottom.  These are the same springs where that scene from Easy Rider was shot, when Hopper and Fonda are visiting the commune. 


After soaking for the better part of an hour, my sons challenged me to swim the Rio Grande.  I told them Sure, under condition that they follow suit.  Somehow that didn’t quite transpire, but such is life.  Buttheads.


Passed a day in Taos–the Plaza, the Pueblo, the restaurants and galleries–then took the High Road to Santa Fe, through all those great lvillages in the hills.  Stopped at a couple of Spanish churches along the way, the kind that were built before our revolution, mostly with Indian labor.  The boys were amazed that any architecture out there was so old.


What is it about New Mexico that is so mysterious?  I’ll never know.  

Robert Wright’s Studio


Went to Bob Wright’s studio last week to discuss carrying his large works.   He taught at University of Kansas for 35 years, but now just paints.

Great artist, great guy.  Lives just north of Tonganoxie.

Came to an agreement.  Will start carrying the large canvases next week.  Plan on placing him with a variety of clients before winter.  Don’t think that will be an issue, given his brilliance.

Relaxed later over iced tea and truffles–I mean the chocolate kind.  Don’t dig the French kind unless I’m in Normandie.

Mount Rushmore, the Black Hills and Gutzon Borglum


In early June, during our trip to SD, we made the obligatory pilgrimage to Mount Rushmore.  I wanted my sons to know the story of Borglum, his son Lincoln, and their sacrifice in completing this insane task–which at the time was surrounded by so much controversy, and financial ruin, that it’s a miracle it was ever finished. 


Many elitists deride this work.  As art I’m not greatly fond of it myself, but as a monumental achievement I find it utterly amazing.  Besides, each of the pieces is a damned good likeness of their subject, especially considering the scale.  But beyond that, it’s the story of the project that blows me away the most.  In the end it killed Borgrlum, so Lincoln finished it.  Like most things in the arts, neither of them was properly appreciated until after he was dead.


Well we all know how that is, or will eventually.   But what matters really is what you give, not the applause you receive–though Borglum would have passionately disagreed about that.  He loved applause, and attacked anyone who didn’t applaud loudely enough.  What a character.  Wouldn’t have wanted to rep him though.


Afterward we hiked all day in the Black Hills, up to Harney Peak and back.  The Sioux were right: it’s a sacred place.


Breckenridge to Mesa Verde


Spent a day camping in the high country above Breck.  Camping is always good; backpacking better–especially in a recession.  My sons dig it as much as I.


Afterward pushed on to Durango, a curious admixture of New Age, Old Age, and Cowboys.  I’ve always liked the town, having first visited it when I was 6, but mainly go there because it’s a gateway to Mesa Verde and Monument Valley.


No time for the valley this year, but we hiked Mesa Verde all day in the desert heat.  The Petroglyph Trail is one of my favorites.  Same for my sons.

The Sculpture of Spencer Schubert

Spencer 1.jpg

Began carrying Spencer’s work a couple of months ago.  Met him through good old Derrick Breidenthal, with whom he shares a studio.

 Spencer 2.jpg

To put it succinctly, Spencer is one of the most brilliant figurative sculptors I have ever met, let alone had the privilege of representing.  Prolific too.  Oddly that doesn’t dilute the power or uniqueness of his work.  If anything, the opposite. 

 Spencer 3.jpg

We recently put 3 busts in the window, and you should see the traffic stop.  That usually points toward good things to come.  I’ve a very good feeling about his career.