The colors run a little deeper in New Mexico. There is a commitment to the land and culture through art, craft, and folklore. A hybrid of Catholic tradition and Native American storytelling. Driving through the ever-changing landscapes, the mythology of New Mexico began to unfold. An eccentric sacredness without novelty; only an appreciation for both this world and the next.
The Sangre de Cristo Mountains in Taos, NM. If you ever find yourself in Taos, stop at the Farmhouse Cafe ( a farm to table restaurant with an incredible sculpture garden and view).
The Rio Grande Gorge Bridge, 565 feet high. I was exhilarated and terrified as walked across. The high winds, the 18-wheelers whisking by, the staggering ridges made my heart beat intensely and my stomach turn. But the sight, the feeling, was nothing short of spectacular.
Pueblo de Taos / Adobe Architecture
Dusk- somewhere in Eastern New Mexico
There is something truthful about being alone in nature. Feeling the bigger world around you. Feeling your insignificance and significance simultaneously. Feeling the eternity of the soul (or energy) and releasing the ego for that moment.
The White Sands in Southern New Mexico; worlds away from Los Angeles. After the Ice Age, an ancient lake formed, after thousands of years the lake dried up and left the Gypsum deposits. The dunes began to form (this is the very abridged version!)