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The very first incarnation of this performance piece - in two weeks - in Santa Fe!
Info & Tickets here
Film: Nasario Remembers the Río Puerco
Thursday, February 22 7 pm
A new documentary follows celebrated folklorist Nasario García doing what he loves: wandering through landscape and memory amid the ghost towns of New Mexico’s Río Puerco valley, reviving recuerdos (memories) of his youth when the ranching villages thrived and viejitos (elders) told stories beside a river that once ran. Through interviews with Dr. García, oral histories, archival photos, and footage of the landscape, Nasario Remembers the Río Puerco poses the question: do ruins remember us? Presented as part of the Bank of America Free Thursday Film Series.
Filmmaker Shebana Coelho and folklorist and author Nasario García will be present at the screenings of the film to discuss it with the audience.
2017; Shebana Coelho; English; 60 minutes; not rated.
Free ticketed event; tickets available one hour before show
Bank of American Theatre
National Hispanic Cultural Center
1701 4th Street SW
Albuquerque, NM 87102
Main: (505) 246-2261
Ursula K. Le Guin
21 October 1992 - 22 January 2018
Ursula Le Guin passed away yesterday. Somewhere she is flying on the other wind.
I want to say that, for me, her stories are weaving – I see the loom in them, the threads, the deliberate careful movements of the artisan making a shape manifest. I see how the conflicts the characters live are first and foremost within, and I see the core story is the discovery of your own path. There is such tenderness between her characters; they are unafraid to love and lose and love even more.
For some reason, it took me a while to start A Wizard of Earthsea; I kept starting and stopping. But then, one summer in 2014, before I went to Palestine, I began it again. And that was that. I remember saying to Omar on the bus returning to Ramallah – I remember saying to him, how you can feel the incantations that her wizards speak working on you; I mean, the care they take, and how the spells are woven, how they require such thought and feeling and precision and a kind of touch too. The laying on of hands. How I felt at peace reading them and afterwards, my thoughts followed that rhythm and I sought to be kind to myself and others.
It was the summer that the assault on Gaza began; when Mohammed Abu-Khdeir, the young Palestinian boy was killed and I went to his funeral in East Jerusalem; that summer in Palestine, the heat, the bombs, the walls, the military hand thrust in the car window asking for your passport, that was my first summer of Earthsea. I remember it now as healing.
There are raids and fighting at the start of the first Earthsea novel, but in most of her books, war does not serve the story. Not does it serve her characters. (does it ever serve ours).
I feel she calls out the oldest truths. Something spoke through her and she let it and grew it and nurtured it and served it profoundly.
These past two weeks, I had been re-reading her books, The Farthest Shore, Tehanu, The Other Wind and had just begun A Wizard of Earthsea again last night.
And woke to read of her passing this morning.
Somewhere she is flying on the other wind. somewhere….
Only in silence the word,
Only in dark the light,
Only in dying life:
bright the hawk’s flight on the empty sky
-- The Creation of Ea
(from A Wizard of Earthsea by Ursula Le Guin)
Farther west than west
beyond the land
my people are dancing
on the other wind
-- the Song of the Woman of Kemay
(from The Other Wind, by Urusula Le Guin)
WHEN TO TRUST THE SKY
by Shebana Coelho
Reena watched the wind carry leaves over the tracks. She felt she was with them, falling into the slats and disappearing under them into the dark. Meanwhile, Salim was speaking about doubt. He paced up and down the tracks, his thin frame casting shadows on the cement floor of the platform.
“Doubt ought to be celebrated like faith is,” he was saying.
The four of them were at the train station, waiting for the ten a.m. to Ranpur and wondering if it would come at all. You could never be certain – downed trees or bandits often delayed it. The trees were the result of a haphazard logging operation that the district had approved a year ago without really thinking, and the bandits were the bored wives from the army base. They intercepted the train at the first stop at Mangh, entered the men’s compartment, took watches and briefcases and returned them at the last stop at Ranpur. They had never been arrested because nothing was actually stolen and besides, their husbands were all officers.
No one answered Salim – they were all listening for the train.
READ THE REST ONLINE AT PERMAFROST
This and that about being here and there, faraway and close...