But It's a Dry Heat

Archive for the ‘New Mexico’ Category

Bosque Fire

“It’s a dry heat” is another way of saying, “It’s combustible.”

I started a funny little post about the Wonder Horse’s murderous tendencies, but lost heart when I saw this. Just a mile or two up the road, our Bosque is on fire. At any given time in New Mexico, something is on fire, but until now, our bosque has escaped the summer conflagrations.

Sigh. Not this year, I guess. News helicopters are rattling overhead, but the footage they’re showing is utter worthless. Dear Channel 7 KOAT, you suck, donkey balls. Typical.

Anyway, horsey post to come in a day or so. Provide the fire doesn’t get worse.

Plants for the Desert Southwest

This Sunday, June 10, is the Corrales (New Mexico) Garden Tour, which runs from 9 am to 4 pm. Come on out to the historic village for a great opportunity to see what can be grown in our dry desert landscape.

With that in mind, I thought I’d show you a few of the star performers in my little slice of hot, dry hell. Here in the Albuquerque metro area we get less than eight inches of rain a year (much less, lately), the summer temperatures rise into the 90s, with the occasional span of 100s; the winter lows can dip into the single digits (recently going as low as -10), with very little snow. Operative word is “dry.” The added complication in my yard is the soil, which is better described as beach sand.

In my garden, most of the plants below do so well that they are downright invasive, reseeding themselves everywhere. Probably not good plants for fussy gardeners who want crisply maintained beds and well-behaved plants, but great in a more rustic, relaxed setting.

Phlox or sand penstemon (Penstemon ambiguus) is a workhorse in sand. In fact, I’m not (more…)

Cowboys and Aliens

Cowboys and Aliens, of course, begins in New Mexico, because that’s where aliens always land when they aren’t planning on blowing up New York or Los Angeles. This state is like a space alien’s secret getaway. Our hero, Jake Lonergan (Daniel Craig) wakes from an impermanent dirt nap in the northern New Mexico desert (circa 1873).

Jake can’t remember his name, how he got the bloody gash in his side, or why he isn’t wearing any shoes but is outfitted with a shiny metal bracelet.  The bracelet offends his fashion sense, so he picks up a rock and whacks on it, ineffectually. His commentary on alien fashion accessories is interrupted by three men on horseback, who see the bracelet and decide it’s some kind of handcuff. Their wee brains already awhirl with all the places they’ll spend the bounty money (women, booze, more booze), the three try to apprehend Jacob.

Except Jake is Bond, James Bond. He kills all three in the blink of an eye, borrows a pair of boots and a horse and trots off to the town of Absolution.

In town, Jake is witness to (more…)

Friday Sketch Dump, the Un-original Edition

I haven’t drawn anything in months.

Consequently, a part of my soul is starting to die. Meanwhile, my husband got a request for a gate … a gate featuring ye ole coyote howling at the moon motif. Words cannot express how much I loath that motif. This native southwesterner would rather eat glass than draw a coyote howling at the moon.

My husband’s response? “See it as a challenge.”

So today, I picked up an old sketchbook, one with really cheap paper because southwestern cliches don’t deserve my good sketchbook, and stared at the blank page for several minutes. Finally,  I just gave up, picked up a nearby Design Toscano catalog and started drawing some of the stuff out of there. Medusa was the most fun. I’ve always felt sorry for Medusa, getting a bad rap on account of a bad hair day. I’m telling ya, we women, we just can’t win.

Also, because I’m on a Loki kick–he’s inspired the hero in my latest WIP–I did the Google thing and found a hoard of fan sites with Loki/Tom Hiddleston pics. Apparently, I’m not the only one who preferred Loki to Thor.

(The dragon, the horses, demon-rooster thing, and coyote are mine.) Click on the image for a larger version.

Pretty Arts, Not Mine

When I was a kid, I was terrified of skulls. I can’t remember why. Unlike most people, I’m not inclined to nostalgia, the uglier stuff in my past being particularly vulnerable to my mind’s eraser. Not that my skull phobia was particularly “ugly,” more like a silly affectation of a child’s mind. Maybe it was empty eye sockets, sightless forever. Or the big white teeth, laid bare by the absence of lips and gums.

Now, decades later, I’ve come full circle, my tastes leaning hard toward gothic.

A few months ago, my mom came up for a visit and we wandered around the shops of Albuquerque’s Nob Hill. In one shop, I discovered the art of Valery Milovic. It’s rather odd, creepy, and adorable in a warped Tim Burton-esque way. There’s a lovely sense of melancholy to some of her works, and best of all, some are very purple–my favorite color.

Of course, I forgot to get her card and her name fell victim to my brain’s auto-erase function. Anyway, last weekend, my husband and I did the Nob Hill thing, and this time I got her card.

Whatcha waitin’ for? Go check out her gallery!

New Cover Goodness

I got this a while back and forgot to post it. The Canvas Thief now has a cover! I like how the designer went with a cool fusion of illustration/graphic novel and reality.

Here’s the story description from the original query letter to Carina Press:

Ten years ago, with two perfect drawings, Maya Stephenson accidentally did the impossible. She brought her graphic novel’s characters–Benjamin Black, a thief, and Adam Sayres, a cop–into our world.

Benjamin is tired of the real world and determined to go home to EverVerse, the land of imaginary characters. He breaks into Maya’s house, planning to force her to destroy his drawings, which will Fade him to EverVerse.  The last thing he wants is a relationship, especially with the person who dragged him into this world. But when he meets Maya, his heart starts insisting he’s already home.

Maya has always suspected she’s different.  But until Benjamin and Adam appear in her life, she’s been the epitome of normal. And normal girls date guys with respectable day jobs. So why are her thoughts and hormones getting sidetracked by Benjamin, the enigmatic thief?  Especially when Adam, “the good guy,” is available and interested.

Except real world Adam is a crime lord masquerading as an ATF agent. From Maya, he wants an army of immortals. From Benjamin, he wants immortality independent of his drawings, which can only be achieved if Benjamin Fades to EverVerse, taking one of Adam’s drawings with him.

Benjamin and Maya fight their attraction, all the while coming up with reasons to see each other. But falling is love is the least of their troubles.  Not when Adam is willing to do anything, including hurting Maya’s friends and family, to get what he wants.

Friday Schmaltz

The sun is shining.

Yeah, I know. This is New Mexico. It does that. Except the weather geeks have been making much a hue and cry over the impending storm. Fortunately, in my little corner of the desert, the wind didn’t blow as predicted and it was a balmy 29-degrees this morning when I took the greyhound for his morning stroll. The weather geeks were going on about how frigid it was. Really? Because it was 19-degrees last week. My maths aren’t so great, but I’m certain 19 is less than 29.

Friday. My mother is visiting this weekend and the house has never been filthier. My only options are hiring a team of maids or moving.

So I said, “Screw it,” and did some sketching. This one is inspired by a quotation I saw in a catalog. (Oh, there’s another thing–we’re drowning in catalogs. Tis the season.) It’s full of errors, but I find I like my raw sketches better than my finished work. This is Regan (from The Music of Chaos) and Talis (also The Music of Chaos, with a bit part in The Canvas Thief.) Both are well over 100, but … semantics. As always, click image for a larger version.

Transformers: Dark of the Moon

Yesterday, Netflix vomited Transformers, Dark of the Moon into our mailbox. The reference to regurgitation being appropriate, since after freeing itself of that DVD, I’m sure Netflix felt much better. (Sorry, suckas. It goes back to you today.)

Why was it in our queue? Because the hubby and I are geeks and if it has any element of SF or fantasy, we’re are compelled to watch. Compelled by the power of nerd (and Greyskull/see, “nerds.”). We have the same problem with action flicks. Can’t not watch ’em.

Husband and I plop our butts on the couch, dinner in hand, and fire up the DVD. The movie starts, straightaway, no previews, suggesting that (more…)

Greyhound Racing, Still Full of The Suck

Thanksgiving, about a month away at this point, is coming at the speed of … a greyhound.  The Corrales Society of Artists’ Holiday show will take place over the three days after Thanksgiving. After a whole season of doing next to nothing, “artz-wise,” I’ve got to get my ass in gear and make some inventory.

I was also working on edits for my upcoming release, The Canvas Thief. I think, maybe, that’s out of the way for a while. (Editor sent the final version onto where ever final versions go.) And I’m doing a book signing–The Music of Chaos–in Corrales the same weekend as the Holiday Art Show.

In the interest of appearing to have an online pulse, I give you mo’ anti-greyhound racing propaganda. Greyhound racing is a sleezy and cruel business, which, like the carton of curdled milk in the back of your fridge, has long since passed its expiration date.

The accompanying graphic is a preliminary sketch that hasn’t gone anywhere. It has problems with perspective and the race car looks like a Beetle. Does anyone race Beetles? But I got nothin’ else, so I went ahead and inked it in Photoshop.

For information on how you can help end the cruel greyhound racing industry, go to Grey2K USA.

Thor

Contains mild spoilers. Also, when it comes to spoilers and salsa (hot sauce), my definition of mild is probably an understatement.

Regarding Thor…I much preferred Loki. Whaaaat? Is that bad?

Thor, the movie, doesn’t burden itself with anything more than a paint by numbers plot. This is a good thing, since the type of scriptwriters (and possibly directors) who gravitate toward superhero flicks are usually all thumbs, unable to tie even the simplest plot threads. Thor zips along from point A to point B with no pesky speed bumps like character development to get in the way.

Thor and Loki are sons of Odin, king of the mythical realm of Asgard. When the (more…)