There's a tether from my heart to my family in Santa Fe.
Buffeted by dry wind, hardened by the sun, brittle from snow, it endures.
Nourished by my dreams, fed from the font of shared memory, watered by laughter. It's a living thing.
As the daughter of a Spanish* Catholic and a Texan Baptist, I was introduced to both the self-flagellating Penitentes of New Mexico and the tent show holy-rollers of East Texas. In addition, my hometown of Santa Fe, the city of Holy Faith, is host to state politics and the attendant corruption, artists and their hangers-on, and a thriving tou more...
