Well I decided to look for art honoring women and it was pretty slim pickings, but I did come up with a few.
This is the only statue honoring an individual woman. She wrote a well-known song about the mountain “America the Beautiful”. So her statue gets to actually face the mountain.
This woman representing the pioneering spirit is paired with a man, but all that’s visible from this angle is his rifle.
This dancing dame is on a revolving pedestal, so it is a little difficult to capture her face. The man seems to be in charge.
This is a more typical bit of art. Woman as part of a rock.
These young women are part of a larger grouping, bookended by young men.
I think this rather dated (it was so modern in 1963) grouping used to be downtown before it was moved near the art museum.
I think this lot covers the spectrum of womanhood: virgin, mother and crone.
I last posted a corner of a room, and just barely visible at the bottom of one are a collection of photos. Here’s the scoop on a few of the vintage photos.
This is my paternal grandmother in about 1925 when she was a 15 year old factory girl. She had gotten dressed up to go to a portrait studio to have this picture made. She was a first-generation American and was a native Russian speaker (although I never ever heard her do this). Her father was a coal miner and they lived in a small town across the river from St. Louis. She had moved to the city to work and lived with her older sister.
At the time this photo was taken she was making shoes, she later switched to making electrical fuses. She worked in a factory until she had a heart attack, then she sat on the sofa reading movie magazines. We always lived near her and I saw her frequently. I love this photo because she is so unfamiliar from the woman I knew.
This is my maternal great-grandmother who was born in 1863. I found this picture in a book on the Tuscarora tribe and it looks to be from about 1930. She had two families, the author of the book was a descendant from the first family. I don’t know what happened to that first husband, or the second, but my grandfather was from her third husband, the second family. She lived with my grandfather and grandmother on the Seneca reservation until after my Mom was born. Then she married again and moved back to the Tuscarora rez.
This is a picture of her grandfather, my great-great-great grandfather and I got this from the collection of a library in Niagara Falls. He was born in 1815 and died in 1899. I did not have any family stories of him, but I found him when I was doing some genealogical research. He was apparently the first Native American deacon on the Tuscarora reservation and was active in the Temperance movement. In contrast to life on the Tuscarora reservation, in the 1892 special census of the Seneca reservation, it is described as being full of pagans. Of course by the time my mom was born on the Seneca rez there weren’t too many (or any) at least openly pagans left.
I was able to share these pictures of her relatives with my mom when she was alive. Because she was the youngest in a second family, everyone was gone by the time she was growing up. When she was dating my dad he took her around to meet all of his relatives, and Mom thought it would be great to be in large family. After she married she found out about all the family feuds my grandmother had with everyone else, so we seldom got to see the nearby relatives.
Today I thought I would share some of the art that hangs on my walls.
I made the quilted piece with turtles after a visit to Hawaii. My husband used to live there and he loved everything about life there. He was a kama’aina. The turtles are based on traditional shapes, but they are an original design.
On the other side is a studio portrait of Miss P., an early American flag design painted by my brother,
a Meramec Caverns (a Missouri tourist attraction) birdhouse also made by my brother, and Rocket Raccoon and other family pictures.
In this corner is a quilted piece in a series that I made with sky people. The designs are taken from petroglyphs. The southwestern scene was painted by my first boyfriend, the art with National Health canes is by London artist Sorab and I previously wrote about the dragons.
This corner has a clock made by my cousin, a copy of the Declaration of Independence, a tiny Georgia O’Keefe print and another historical flag painted by my brother. When he mailed it to me recently the postal clerk asked what was in the package (was it: liquid, hazardous or dangerous), so he started telling the story and the other clerks stopped working and listened too. When he finished there was a huge line of irate customers behind him, but it is an interesting and little known story.
Of course this area was once home to and part of the range of various Native American tribes. Cuerno Verde started his war against the settlers right where the power plant stands today. There are still traces of the indigenous people.
These don’t exactly honor the memory of the ancestors.
This place is a 1930’s roadhouse (a place with booze and dancing). The interior has a circular log ceiling like a Navajo hogan (a hogan is a house). It used to be on the edge of town and sat vacant for years. Now it’s a bar again.
It has this carving in case you missed the idea that the place is about Indians.
This is a Ute tree. It’s a trail marker and was actually shaped by Ute Indians. It’s over by the creek, not far from my house.
I hadn’t really realized how many statues of men there were until I started taking photos. So here’s more of this lot.
This was a local farmer. He liked to grow pumpkins to give away to school children.
This guy and his hat are immortalized near the courthouse.
This member of the Dumpty family is somewhat estranged from the rest of his clan and we don’t know why. (He’s not saying!)
It’s hard to tell gender, but I believe he is a snowman.
The same is true of this stick man.
Pan is only half man, but his goat bits are pretty well hidden by the snow. He lives at a local university, to inspire students to hedonism (as if they needed the push ;-)).
Strolling about town, one notices that there are a number of representations of men.
This fellow with his back turned to the mountain, was the European person who gave the mountain it’s present name. He used to be facing the mountain, but when the city moved him, they turned him around.
The city founder was an abolitionist who became a general during the American Civil War. His horse (also a male) (possibly Diablo) was not awarded any rank for his participation.
He made pots of money by staking gold miners, and as he had no heirs, he left lots of his money to the city.
Another mining millionaire who left his money to the city.
This cowboy reading a newspaper reminds one that people are (or were) literate and news is worthwhile (or not).
The bloodsucking count immortalizes the intentions of the real estate interests of our fair city.
The deer continue to stop by, and some of them are quite distinctive.
This is Petyr Little Antler. He is possibly related to Einhorn von Stag (brother, son cousin?) as I sometimes see them together. But Petyr has the harem.
This is the crooked leg doe. She is part of the harem and has a fawn that follows her around.
This is the red-eared doe. She does not have as much seniority as the crooked leg doe, so she defers to her elder.
Here the girls are in a group with their fawns.
Winter in Colorado is a mixed bag, periods of warm weather then brief (usually) periods of snow and cold. People think of skiing in the plentiful snow in Colorado, but the snow stays mostly in the higher elevations. And the ski areas also make plenty of fake snow. We just got a major storm, so people were freaking out and buying enough milk, bread and eggs for the apocalypse. Now comes the clean up.
I measured 8 1/2 inches (or 21.25 centimeters for those who think in metric.)
This is my favorite snow removal tool, a leaf blower. It creates an instant blizzard on soft fluffy snow. This snow had crusted over, so it didn’t work very well.
That leaves the trusty ordinary snow shovel to do the job. It is plastic, so one needs to buy a new one every few years.
Unlike the aluminium grain shovel, which is about 35 years old. It’s great for heavy wet snow.
I also use paw-safe de-icer for the frozen bit. Not pictured is the ice scraper, the brush on an extension pole for the satellite dish, various brooms, and the snow roof rake (because the hardware store sold me a box with just a handle in it).
However, these methods of snow removal pale in comparison with the technique of Miss P.
She uses her nose and entire body to smash the snow out of her way.
After noticing the infestation of dragons in Santa Fe, I suddenly realized that my house had plenty of dragons laying about as well!
This dragon was supposed to bring good luck. I bought it in a shop in Boston many years ago. I think for the most part he did his job.
I love old maps because when the mapmaker was unsure as to what was actually there, that is where one puts either a snake or a sea monster. The actual locations of sea monsters is uncertain.
This dragon is a pin cushion and lives in my sewing room.
This dragon netsuke was bought in honor of Miss Dog. When we used to take her to the dog park, she would fetch tennis balls for a while, then she would start a hoard. She would have a great pile of them, all hers and no one had better mess with it.
This dragon is a bit of art on the wall, it’s a silk screened card.
This baby dragon is crocheted and comes from Galaxyfest which is a local fan convention.
If I am not careful the dragons will completely take over my house.
I thought it might be interesting to take pictures of some of the signs in my neighborhood. I live in a middle-class area, and it’s pretty safe. But, when I looked at the signs that are around I started to wonder???
Maybe I’m not so secure after all! (Especially from those bears. But they’re asleep until April.)