Turning and turning in the widening gyre
The falcon cannot hear the falconer;
Things fall apart; the centre cannot hold;
Mere anarchy is loosed upon the world,
The blood-dimmed tide is loosed, and everywhere
The ceremony of innocence is drowned;
The best lack all conviction, while the worst
Are full of passionate intensity.
—YEATS
Sometimes, in some places, even when things are falling apart, the center holds.
Consider 2024. Consider the people in this issue. Consider the city of Santa Fe.
I have by nature a cheerful disposition. But it is hard to shout down the landscape of the present, the sense of a gathering storm. Where, for example, the odds of this country being run by a fascist are a coin toss away. Where the pace of climate change outdistances our rational fears, mocking our collective ability to do what we are doing, which would be slightly more than jack shit. Where wars, violence, and bigotry led by scoundrels, fiends, and assholes of all stripes are either already in high places or getting there. Fast.
Every interviewee in this issue connects viscerally and directly to all of this — and because of it, they fight. With conviction, urgency, and courage. This is their way of making a stand.
What is the center for these people? Where does it come from and why do they stay loyal to it? And what is it about Santa Fe that holds them?
Why does Andrea (oncologist), show up every day and give the enemy we call cancer a run for its money? What makes Will (blacksmith), a self-described failed hiker, pound a rectangular bar into meaning and why is iron, for him, the blood of the earth?
Why does Nicholas (artist) transform broken, ghostly relics into art? Why does Jill Momaday (actor and writer) declare a homecoming, gather the wisdom of her family, and prepare to face the world as a warrior? Why does Jono (musician) find cheer and harmony in a world cloaked in dissonance? Why does Raashan create a space for artists, tied to hip-hop values? How do these people emanate warmth, light and vitality?
Maybe they know that while they cannot change what’s out there, they can change things here. By doing that well, maybe the people they change will in turn do that with others.
Santa Fe is the muse, the ancient backdrop, the gathering place, the city of light – the center – for these people. It attracts a certain type of person, especially now when so many things seem to be pulling apart. They come here, they stay here.
When that happens, sometimes things are better than what we dared believe. Sometimes the magic works. Sometimes the new kitten for Christmas makes friends with your territorial dogs – it comes out of the box and hangs on their tail. Who the fuck knows?
We are now ten issues in. If you are a human, ten is young, if you are a dog, it’s old. If you’re a startup magazine, it’s a miracle.
Maybe it’s the city. Because the more I get to know it, the more I see this place is a center, a center that feel as solid as the earth it sits on.
So be gone, William Yeats! Your words do not apply here! At least not today.
Photo Mary Moon
