Cooking for Jack Lemmon

If you've been thinking about seeing Van Horn yourself, make your travel plans soon.

I wish more of you could have been able to make the journey. Being here is a real lesson in looking at things more deeply, and it has been a privilege to learn a few things from Van Horn.

On first sight, most would say this is a depressing little town. It is all too easy to see only the truck repair places and the dumpy little motels. At dawn and dusk though, there is nothing but shimmering color against the mountains. Many nights I stand slackjawed at my small window taking in the sunset, and I feel calmed and comforted by the light. I'm not just an extra human being taking up space in a crowded city. I'm a part of life.

It took a year to break in here. I suspect it came sooner than that, before I recognized it. Maybe it took the newspaper article about my artwork, claiming me as "our own" to get it through my thick skull that I was accepted. I know it took awhile for folks to trust that this quiet woman from another place--who surely had other options in life--would want to live here. I know they want me to stay. Now when I tank up the car, they ask me, "what are you up to today, going hiking?" and, "well, Beth, drive safely and be careful." I know there are conversations happening now, "how can we keep this girl here?"

My friends are mostly 15-20 years older than me. They opened up to me and once I let myself, I opened myself to them. Gun-toting, conservative cowboys have a great deal to teach me about grace, faith, acceptance, and fun. Maybe they're learning from me, too. I think they are.

Every day there is something new. The bare and beautiful geometry of pecan orchards in January. The flock of long-billed curlews, shorebirds nesting in the open range land. Quincenearas. Space scientists. Large ceramic dogs resting on new graves.

I've often wondered why my needlework is so tiny. Maybe because it forces me to focus and look deeply at the details. Maybe I need that. My experiences here make me look and learn from my own strength, my stubbornness and my own weaknesses. Van Horn inspires and requires a close look. If you consider it superficially, you miss the value and the beauty of the town. I learned that by living here, how to stop and listen to myself and how to see.

Last night I dreamt I was cooking for guests, but you... all my friends.... were missing. Only Jack had the opportunity to see the beauty of it all. That's a shame. This blog was an attempt to share it with you, but really, you have to be here to get the full experience.

The funding situation wavers daily between "utterly hopeless" and "maybe there's hope but it will take some risk and faith in others to get it together." I'm prepared to tell my board (as I told the president yesterday) that I will have to start dusting off the resume in March. My first choice is to stay here in this job (I don't like giving up easily and there's so much I want to accomplish), a strong second choice would be to find something else in the region, but I'm also open to new adventures in new places.