I’m stuck on the words “human interventions in landscape” accompanying Nancy Holt’s early photographic series, “Western Graveyards.” The collection of dilapidated and overgrown burial sites, photographed in 1968, occupies a corner of the exhibition Nancy Holt: Sightlines at the Santa Fe Art Institute.

A brief trip to the Santa Fe University Art and Design for the graphic design senior thesis exhibit proved a refreshing reminder of the potential (and potential capital gain) of art.

 Looking to have a silver turquoise ring cut down to size, I found a rough-hewn silversmith nicknamed Bear tucked away in his den at the downtown Santa Fe Village, where he’s been for 27 years.  

I recently worked on the set of Longmire, a new television series for the A&E network starring Robert Taylor. Filming in the Santa Fe area, the show is based on the hero of the Craig Allen Johnson novel series, Sheriff Walt Longmire.

Sculptor Cannupa Hanska shares a multi-acre compound in Nambé with at least three other people, including his partner (the vivacious Santa Fe DJ and performance artist Ginger Dunnill) and their newborn, Io (pronounced E-O). The main house tells of its prior life as a mill, the remnants of a wheel fixed to the outside and the gears plastered into surfaces in the kitchen.

Scott Shuker scours press releases and website for updates, hirings/firings and more from Santa Fe's arterati.

Take this apart: “cut down her presence remains comforting me no accusation recrimination just her love.” What are you left with? Syllables, a rhythmic cadence, layers of meaning left to interpretation...

With the opening of his show Tales of the Whirling Log and Auspicious Marks on Canvas, local tattoo artist Guido Baldini hopes to retell the story of the swastika based on its original intentions.

So I’m back at Caldera Gallery, this time for a letter-writing event, in advance of the March 6 elections. I’m sitting across from Houston Johansen, justifying why I’m thinking about abstaining from the vote. Having humored me a conversation on politics as art, he contains his annoyance no more.

Money is a pedestrian way to value art…I mean life…I mean art. I voice this truism Sunday afternoon, walking up Canyon Road with my baby mama. She huffs a laugh, and says, “Duh.” So I’m comp