Soil Webs

BY SIENA SOFIA BERGT | SIENA@SFREPORTER.COM

Ueerness And Querencia

Aiko usually starts this story with The Mold: a velvety, dark mass which had almost covered our bathroom ceiling by the time we noticed it last January. My steadfast girlfriend decided to scrub the colony away herself while I was at work—only to discover that our bathroom “skylight” was just a removable plastic panel, opening onto several inches of dripping fungus and then the white Tesuque sky. But I needed more persuading.

The dead possum couple we found floating bloated and entwined in a storage container outside our front door didn’t do it either, despite the grim symbolism. Somehow, neither did the exploding washing machine/toilet disaster, although it claimed several of my most beloved Double Take finds along with any sense of mutual dignity that remained after two years of pandemic cohabitation.

In fact, I wasn’t fully convinced we needed to leave until the afternoon of the summer solstice (by which point the process had already begun). Turning onto our dirt road that day, I saw what looked like a twisted tree stump in the middle of the intersection. I parked and walked back to investigate.

It was a freshly severed ram’s head, perfectly centered and pointed at our house.

I paced obsessive little circles around it. The blood had pooled, not dripped; the thing clearly hadn’t fallen from a farmer’s truck. Besides, how could it have landed so symmetrically by chance? I snapped more than 50 photos, thinking hazily that Aiko might want it as cover art for a goth album someday. An hour later the head had vanished, leaving only a dark stain on the turnoff. When we theorized about it that night, she was the one to voice our shared fear. We rented the only casita on a row of stuccoed mansions, and seemed to be the only queer couple for miles around. We weren’t out to the neighbors, but they’d likely seen enough to catch on. Maybe it was mold-induced paranoia. But it felt like time to go.

Even if we could have afforded to live within city limits, we needed space to plant things. Aiko studied aquaponics and makes worm tea; my Three Sisters garden is a talisman against an assortment of depression-related diagnostic acronyms. And I’d started to feel homesick for Agua Fria Village. For the annual San Isidro Water Blessing. For the reciprocity of living on—and tending to—the land that raised me.

So when we found an acre and a half we could (just barely) afford in Chimayó, with a small adobe house and water rights to the active acequia twining across its field, I became consumed. I dreamed about that land. Fantasized about the acequia’s curves. Imagined spreading jewel corn seeds over red loam. Sexy, sexy stuff.

And I grew increasingly anxious. The severed head urged us to go—but was this the destination? Neither of us had family in the community. We’d be living next to the biggest pilgrimage site in the country. And places like Chimayó have very good reasons to be wary about the intentions of outsiders. What if this land didn’t want us? The feeling had to be mutual if this was going to work.

So I went looking for Roger Montoya.

Growing up, Roger and his partner, Sal, were my patron saints of rural queer Nuevomexicanismo. Roger had moved back to Velarde after receiving his HIV diagnosis—and now devotes himself to creating artistic opportunities for Española youths and painting the giant sunflowers he and Sal rear in their backyard. They know mutuality with place. So I drove to meet Roger at the end of an acequia rights meeting, hoping he’d somehow know how to calm me down. He reminded me of the concept of querencia—a word I hadn’t heard since I was a child. A kind of homesickness in reverse, querencia means devotion to the communal land you inhabit. And as Roger reminded me, it is dependent on what you offer: to both place and people. Like mycorrhizae, sharing resources through soil.

A month later, Aiko and I attended the Chimayó Water Blessing. Our soon-tobe-neighbor explained the acequia gates there in the plaza hadn’t been opened in decades. That the village had prepared a communal plot to teach the youngest Chimayosos about traditional irrigation. That it was time to welcome the water back in. We tossed handfuls of dried petals into the prodigal current as it passed, then followed the others downhill to watch the shared plot flood. Aiko and I took turns plowing the field, sweating as we scattered sunflower seeds and black beans.

Then we wound our way back to the plaza. Too shy to talk much before the ceremony, hunger now pushed us towards the crowded food tables. We mutually gravitated towards a Krispy Kreme box. Instead of donuts, we found apricot cobbler inside, tart and perfect from the village trees. Another table held packets of Three Sisters seeds. I took one, along with a pot of Chimayó Red Chile sprouts. Maybe this time next year, the seedlings’ fruits will be stewing with pork and jewel corn on our stove—ready to bring to the Water Blessing. A small offering of querencia

MUSIC WED/8-THURS/9

JAZZ-SPLOSION

It’s not like Santa Fe has faced some kind of jazz shortage over the years, but that doesn’t mean the faithful or the curious aren’t always on the lookout for something good. In this instance, that something good comes in the form of vocalists Jasmin Williams and Loveless Johnson

III, who, along with pianist Tom Rheam, drummer Mark Clark and trumpet maestro Rodney Bowe, bring a dash of jazzy class to downtown’s Palace Prime restaurant. “We sing the best of pure, straight-ahead jazz like no other team of singers in New Mexico, let alone Santa Fe,” Johnson tells SFR. “We leave all the love and passion we have for the music on the playing field, and are committed to delivering an impeccable audience experience in every single show and song.” Your ticket comes with a three-course meal, too! (Alex De Vore)

Loveless Johnson III and Jasmin Williams:

5:30 and 8 pm Wednesday, Feb. 8 and Thursday, Feb. 9 $90. Palace Prime, 142 E Palace Ave., (505) 919-9935

EVENT SAT/11

GET A JOB, HIPPIE!

Getting work over the last few years has been tough—we all know the pandemic story. But as the economy comes out of the sadsies and humankind emerges into whatever we’re now living, local and federal assistance is drying up. Still, the world keeps acting like all that stuff didn’t just happen and, we bet, you’ve got bills to pay. To that end, know that the City of Santa Fe will host a rapid hire event this weekend at the Genoveva Chavez Community Center. Once there, you’ll hear about part-time, seasonal and full-time opportunities for paint, sign and street workers as well as in parks and other outdoor spaces. Plus if you time it right, you could probably go ice skating the same day. We know it’s not easy out there, but maybe this is the start of something new for you?(ADV)

City of Santa Fe Rapid Hire Event: 10 am-noon Saturday, Feb. 11. Free Genoveva Chavez Community Center, (505) 955-4000

FILM TUE/14

Black Panthers: Varda Forever

Anti-profit cinema space screens French feminist classics for abortion fundraiser

No Name Cinema has a history with experimentation. But its benefit for the Albuquerque-based Mariposa Fund—a group working to improve abortion access for undocumented folks—draws the local collective into unexpected territory. After all, how does a “no profit organization,” a theater without hard ticket fees, put on a fundraiser? In line with the Agnès Varda feature screening at its upcoming event, No Name takes a vagabond approach.

AS IF!

Let us now consider the triumph of director Amy Heckerling’s timeless 1995 cinematic masterpiece Clueless, and how it gifted the world Alicia Silverstone. Now let it be be known the Lensic Performing Arts Center shall play it on Valentine’s Day, for free, no less. Based on Jane Austen’s Emma, the film that also launched Paul Rudd into the hearts and minds of millions tells the tale of Cher (Silverstone), a Southern California rich kid with a heart of gold who gets into the matchmaking game when a new kid shows up at her fancy high school. Conflict and laughs and Donald Faison ensue, and Cher learns a thing or two about love (which includes a big ol’ crush on her former step brother, Rudd). Make sure you reserve your spot ASAP, and maybe we’ll see you around—hope not sporadically. (ADV)

Clueless: 7 pm Tuesday, Feb. 14. Free Lensic Performing Arts Center 211 W San Francisco St., (505) 988-1234

“No one is turned away for lack of funds. I’ve never found people on the whole to be rude and stingy,” co-founder Abby Smith notes. “That said, donations alone aren’t enough to cover the cost of renting and heating the space, so we are always on the grant hustle or selling T-shirts.”

That means the double bill of Vagabond and Black Panthers isn’t looking to hit a dollar target—it’s more about highlighting the shared concerns connecting the theater, the Mariposa Fund and Varda’s onscreen subjects.

“There’s very little tolerance for transgressive behavior in our society. A woman managing her own health care is considered transgressive. With this program we’re showcasing a filmmaker and subjects that counter that narrative,” Smith continues. “I think as women, we’re constantly receiving some form of instruction, whether that’s ‘you can’t have sex with that person,’ or, ‘you can’t get drunk in your van,’ and to see someone completely reject that…is empowering.”

But while Vagabond (which opens Sunset Boulevard-style on the abandoned body of its titular nomad) is disturbingly connected to the real-life dangers the Mariposa Fund addresses, Black Panthers is the true star of the program.

For one thing, it’s ridiculously under-seen: Marvel movies have all but drowned it out in search results. But it’s also a direct call to action for the attendees on Friday night.

“By showing this film I hope our audience can understand themselves not as individuals, but as members of a community—and to take a look at what they are or could be doing to strengthen that community,” Smith concludes.

From where we sit, tossing a few bucks to your local microcinemas and reproductive health care orgs is a pretty good place to start. (Siena Sofia Bergt)

ABORTION FUND BENEFIT SCREENING: VAGABOND + BLACK PANTHERS 7:30 pm, Friday, Feb. 10, $5-$15 suggested No Name Cinema, 2013 Pinon St. nonamecinema.org