The first leg of my Road Trip America was a drive from Roswell to Denver, via Las Vegas and Raton, NM. I was heralded along the way by wild sunflowers because it’s exactly the season to find them along highways and freeways in New Mexico and Colorado. They are like bright eyes or little bursts of sun when the temps should be calming down. In New Mexico, they haven’t. Denver, however, brought the blessed relief of rain and heat in the 80s rather than 100s.
The reason for choosing Denver was simple: one of my daughters lives there. She lives in a tiny apartment in a neighborhood near downtown, in walking distance of many beautiful places, such as where I attended Sunday Mass:
It’s also within walking distance of numerous cafes, the public library, and the art museum.
The art museum is not only a crazy geometric building, which is itself worth exploring, but also surprised me with its collections. In the contemporary collection, you will find intriguing works by people I was unfamiliar with, such as the abstract bull below…
…as well as well-known masters like Picasso, Goya, and Georgia O’Keefe.
On the top floor of that wing of the building, there is an eclectic blend of African art (from multiple nations), geometric art, and portraits, such as this one:
Unfortunately, the image above does not do justice to the luminosity of the actual painting, not to mention the expression in the woman’s eyes.
Eventually, we meandered into the European art section, where we discovered my favorite kind of paintings: striking, realistic renditions of boats and coastlines (I’m partial to artwork with classic trucks, boats, ships, and trains.) I also love grand sweeping landscapes, especially if they involve distant ruins of castles or Greek temples, or conversely, storms at sea. I am attracted to drama.
I’m not as partial to impressionist paintings, but in person, the museum’s collection of master artists that include but are not limited to Monet, Degas, Renoir, Manet, and VanGogh, was awe-inspiring.
On another day, we visited the natural history museum, where we discovered more art on display, but of dioramas of North American wildlife scenes. What I loved the most was a section in the prehistoric display on extinct dragonflies. Apparently, dragonflies used to be giant! An artist’s depiction:
Near the end of my stay, I realized I needed a souvenir. My daughter took me downtown to the I ❤️ Denver store, where I then had to choose between an iconic shirt with a marijuana leaf (everyone seems high in Denver), a book about local ghosts, and a mug that states, Not today, Blucifer. I chose the latter, and I’m about to explain why.
This is the real Blucifer:
Luis Jiménez is a sculptor local to me in New Mexico. He sculpted the famous dancers at UNM (my alma mater):
He also has numerous works in the Museum of Contemporary Art in Roswell and has or had a studio in Hondo, which is down the highway from Roswell. I say had because he was famously killed by one of his statues. However, I had no idea that it was a piece from the giant blue horse he was sculpting for the Denver Airport that killed him. In fact, his family had to finish the sculpture because he was unable to. That is why Denver locals call the horse Blucifer. For obvious reasons, they view it as cursed. The light shining from his eyes should be enough. In fairness, the eyes are a nod to the artist’s origins of having grown up in his father’s neon sign studio.
While I admit that joking about a man’s death is not generally appropriate, this is more than a joke. It is part of local legend. And the artist is part of my New Mexico experience: from Albuquerque to Roswell to every trip I make from Roswell to Socorro when I pass by his old studio. For that reason, I chose the mug. It felt like a weird tie to a high city, apart from my daughter.
Her boyfriend happens to be a potter – which is a type of sculptor – from Roswell, now living and working in a local art studio in Denver. Before I left the city toward my next stop on Road Trip America, I told him, “Let this be a lesson to you.” I don’t know what kind of lesson it is. I guess only time will tell.
Jill Domschot 