I am in the process of uploading the old My Tiny Vegas stories to this site. I should have that done in a day or two. I plan on blogging a few days a week, telling stories about our original Las Vegas, here in New Mexico, as well as telling the story of what it’s like to market a city …

I added a new page to this site. I wrote a rant on the state of our high schools, a rant fueled by my son’s negative experience attending Robertson High School in the City Schools district. Keep in mind that my words are a rant and not a fully crafted story.
I’m working full time – I have to do so …

King Stadium hides in the brush that was once Camp Luna. A WPA project, the stadium wastes time in silence, its stone bleachers reminiscent of ancient Rome. I’m writing a magazine story on this forgotten bit of Las Vegas architecture, and will post more information – and more photographs – for My Tiny Vegas readers soon.

“It’s too hot, Mom.”
My young son, Martin, lifted his baseball cap and wiped the sweat from his forehead. We’d walked two miles, almost three. The Mount Calvary Cemetery stood just out of reach.
“We’re almost there, honey. C’mon. Have something to drink.”
I held out a full bottle of water. My grandmother’s ashes coughed. I felt them lurch, three miles away in …

The face of a man – curiously missing eyes, missing teeth, his brain seemingly evaporated – almost grins from a pedestal in Burris Hall. Spikes protrude from his head, evidence of a piercing gone mad, of the torture of migraine, of a troublesome mauling with oversized golf tees, perhaps, or martini stirrers. Matthew C. Wicker’s, “Stacks,” is both disturbing and hilarious at once. An artist from New York, Wicker is one of over eighty professional iron artists in Iron Tribe.

“I was trying to describe this group of people,” explains David Lobdell, NMHU Department of Fine Arts professor, and curator of the Iron Tribe exhibition, now on display through Friday, March 6. “We are willing to spend our extra money to do this – we’ll drive across the country, drive for 30 hours one way. We didn’t go to school together. I learned it after school, when I was just started out at Highlands. We’re not necessarily friends. We come together out of our mutual interest. The world Tribe seemed to suit the group best, especially for the name of a program that happens in New Mexico.”

by Birdie Jaworski
A massive football player, his uniform black, heavy, robotic, runs through a modern city, a flutter of torn books beneath spiked shoes. He carries a graduation cap in one hand, stolen from the head of a statued scholar, the other hand extended in an evil claw toward a group of diminutive young children sitting at simple desk – …

A wood stove belches ash into a shotgun space that once housed the carriage belonging to Nuestra Senora de los Dolores’ Padre Tehane. Artist Alex Ellis stokes the fire, a shelf of stacked paintings to his left, exposed layered stone behind him. The paintings almost whisper, almost shimmer, their layers of rich color deposited on old wood, on marcasite panel. …