Between Two Homes

It is easy for Amy and me to move between Oaxaca, Mexico, and Santa Fe, New Mexico. We love both places deeply. Oaxaca is our home now—it has broadened our perspectives on life in ways we could never have imagined. But Santa Fe—and Taos as well—live somewhere deeper, woven into our bones. They are part of our story.

After so many years of adventure, commitment, and growth, there is a particular pleasure in returning. Not just seeing again, but recognizing—landscapes, faces, rhythms that once shaped us.

For the past few years, we’ve been fortunate to stay in the house I built long ago with my former wife, Jean. She travels now, and we care for the place. I know every inch of it. We lived there for twenty-five years. Walking through its rooms is like moving through layers of time.

Spring has arrived. Flowers are just beginning to show themselves. The air is brisk, clean, and invigorating. I find myself breathing more deeply here.




We’ve seen dear friends, as we always do. Familiar laughter returns easily.

We opened our storage unit, and our belongings seemed almost to greet us—old companions asking, “What next?” Most of it is artwork, with a scattering of personal items. Pieces of a life lived in many chapters.

We are releasing artworks from our Santa Fe years. To view, click HERE.

Another bonus from the storage unit is the discovery and unfolding of exceptional quilts Amy made in the late 1980's. They formed the basis of a traveling museum show and appeared in venues across the midwest, including the Field Museum in Chicago. She won a National Endowment of the Arts award for the work. Many are available for purchase now. click HERE.

We drove up to Taos along that spectacular route tracing the Rio Grande and passing the great Gorge. The land was as powerful as ever. Taos, in its quiet beauty, moved Amy to tears. We saw friends there too, the kind who make time feel less linear and more like a circle.

Saturday, we drove out to the small village of Cerrillos for the annual Turquoise Trail Pack Burro Race. It was joyful, unpretentious, and full of life. Many of the animals are rescues, now cared for by people who clearly love them. There was laughter everywhere—good, simple happiness.

And soon, we will return to Oaxaca. We leave next Sunday, May 10.

There is no sense of leaving one place behind for another. Instead, it feels like stepping between two homes—each offering something essential, each reminding us of who we have been, and who we continue to become. And somehow, in going back and forth, we never really leave home at all.