Wednesday, January 11, 2012

You Probably Think This Blog is about you...don't you

I have ended more friendships with something I said or didn't say than most people have friends. This is not a case of inflated ego but rather thin skin. Mr. X, my close friend for the past 5 years made a documentary
about the neighborhood he grew up in. (I have to close my eyes. I drove all nite to get to the 'super' Indian market in Kayenta, Az and I'm in my log cabin room at the Desert Rose Inn in Bluff, Utah after taking a hot bath and I can't keep my eyes open)

I'm awake and its after midnite in Bluff, what appears to be a white town which i have no interest in and will go find Indian when its light. For the [ast several days I've been doing what I most love doing- sawing wood up on BLM land designated for firewood harvesting in Oracle and wandering through the Indian market in Kayenta, Az. To cut the wood one has to get a permit from the forest ranger, Mac, a VERY big but, seemingly gentle, Black man. Mac played baseball in the Air Force. It costs $20 for two cords worth of mesquite. He gives you coupons for 1/4 cord take out and after one has filled the back of one's truck with wood one leaves a numbered (your permit number) tag on a standing tree. The half feld trees made the place look at dusk like the aftermath of a civil war battle.

I spent another twenty dollars on wood a few days later in Kayenta when a young man pulled in to the gas station i was in with a truck load. He sold me a fat row of cedar (pinion) he had gotten from a low mt. range he pointed to he said was 80 miles away. Some of the grey wood is so beautiful i won't ever burn, just keep it to look at. it.

If I could make a living from it, I'd shoot trees. Last year I gave cut agave leafs I found cut and left to be picked up on which I would carve with a kitchen knife "Happy Holidays", etc. I probably gave out more than a dozen from Tucson to LA ro SF. This year I began making "Branchcuzis"

 by sawing away small branches from interesting shaped longer thicker branches i would find by the side of the road to Florence (rt. 79) on the old Tom Mix highway. I've done two so far-one to Anne and Tim on Christmas eve dinner at Safron on Oracle rd and the other to Karen on her birthday, They are each numbered (edition of 100) and signed.
Yesterday afternoon I drove from Kayenta towards Farmington to sit and stare at Shiprock but it was too far. I stopped at the Mexican Water Restaurant expecting mediocre food. Wrong. The beans were like dirt which I like and the batter on the chili relleno was better than I have had in years.

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