There is so much history here—I think this is the sixth or seventh time I've visited since I started writing this blog, and every time, there's a cascade of memories stretching back to 1983, when I first arrived. Now there's overlays of memories from three visits in particular as well. My last visit as a free man was shortly after moving out of A's house in March 2017, putting all my stuff in storage, and heading out for spring break. By the following July, when I returned, I was already entangled.
The last planned visit here was going to be this past December, but the old retina fell off, and a gas bubble was injected into my eye, and a change in altitude was out of the question. Face down with me, and into the weird tunnel of the past seven months. The plan was shitty anyway, and would have been as unworkable as they all were, and was mostly a testament to the blindness of the enterprise in the face of reality, so it's fitting that half my sight almost completely vanished for good and grounded me.
This time, it's wall to wall social engagements so far, with a surprise invitation to see Leoš Janáček's opera, Jenufa, a hike date the next day, a dinner with friend and her sons last night, brunch today with a previously FB-only friend (who happens to be the aunt of a certain person, but the FB friendship stretches back about a decade), breakfast tomorrow with a different previously FB-only friend, early coffee with a long time friend/ex/colleague Tuesday morning at the Farmer's Market, dinner and the Waves with another friend Wednesday, etc. I now remember why I used to not let anyone know I was here, even before the surreptitious visits of the past couple of years. I have, however, been enjoying these social things, so very different from my usual life back in Tempe where the only reason I ever leave the house is for recovery meetings.
Jenufa was wild, melodramatic in the extreme, requiring intense musical and acting skills from the cast. There are a few turns for the characters that are very difficult to navigate, and the performers did a great job, making what sounds extremely unlikely on paper make dramatic sense. The only hope for the title character, for example, is a man who slashed her face out of jealousy. Men write these tales, for sure. Also, one is maneuvered into at least some sympathy for a woman who commits infanticide. The ending is triumphant mere minutes after the truth is revealed, etc. Remarkable. The Santa Fe Opera is an amazing, mostly open air amphitheater, and the glorious Jemez Mountain sunset backstage is always a part of the production. On this night, a fierce wind and rain storm blew heavy rain in under the roof on me and my date, soaked to the bone, but dry by the final ovation.
The long-suffering Jenufa, slashed face and all
The aspects of the visit about which I was most excited, however, all revolve around food. The first place I went after checking into the Motel 6 was Ohori's for the aged Indonesian and organic Ethiopian coffee. Chocolate Maven yesterday. Kakawa, Plaza Cafe, Who's Donuts, La Boca and a few other goals in the offing.
Santa Fe feels more gritty and urban every time I visit, and there's the desperate feeling of meth in the air lately. It had never felt like a meth town to me previously, but last night, in the environs of a free Reverend Horton Heat concert at the Railyard, it definitely did. I do sometimes fantasize about moving back here, but, ominously, each visit convinces me that, in fact, uh,m no, not a good idea. It is mostly appealing in memory only.
Meanwhile, I'm gathering photos for a travelogue tracing Shamrock, Nashville, Harrisonburg, Allentown, Narrowsburg, New Jersey, Ann Arbor, Duluth, Kabetogama, Williston, Shelby, Glacier, Olympia, Oregon Coast, Shasta Trinity, Toiyabe, Rock Springs, Dixie, Flagstaff, Tempe, Tucson, Truth or Consequences, Santa Fe. All of the photos are on the cell phone, as befits these strange days. The cell phone has become my default camera, especially in documenting travel. So any kind of documentation in other venues requires transferring the images somehow, usually via email. A little bit clunky for sure.
Botany 2019 was great, although the strange upscale "charm" of the resort at which it was held wore off quickly. The main difference between the JW Marriott Starr Pass Resort and the Motel 6 I'm in now is the type of human odor. At the Marriott, it smelled like upscale sweat and a fancy kind of attempt to mask it. Here at the Motel 6 it's just a dirty gym sock in the air, but it's still the sad, desperate, weird smell of humans on the road. The other difference of course was the price, although the conference rate at the resort cut things down to size.
Monday through Wednesday was pretty much wall to wall presentations, with social events in the evening. The conference is always set up with multiple simultaneously rooms plugging away at 15 minute presentations, with about 32 sessions a day per room- roughly 8 rooms going, so about 250 presentations a day, at least. I chose to present on the habitat suitability and climate change research I had done for the study species of cactus I have been working with, and it's always a trip distilling a 70 page dissertation chapter down to a 12 minute talk. It went well, and I was happy it was first thing in the morning on Monday, as that meant I could just wander and attend other talks the rest of the time. I probably saw at least 50 presentations.
The overall effect was reassuring, as it felt to me like the research and results I've gotten are at or above the level of quality of the other presentations I saw. I also schmoozed, made connections for three possible jobs, talked with committee members and advisor, made some new botanist friends and had a few chances to enjoy Tucson.
The biggest challenge now is to bootstrap myself into a feigned level of confidence strong enough to pursue the job applications that I need to pursue. I'm in a far less than sanguine frame of mind, for no real reason other than that I am me, and it is seriously challenging, trying to push through the old dog and pony show of self-marketing while at such a low point. Fortunately, I have a lot of prior writing and cover letters to draw on, from more confident cycles.
No comments:
Post a Comment
This is an anonymous blog, mostly in an effort to respect the 12th tradition of Alcoholics Anonymous. Any identifying information in comments will result in the comment not being approved.