New Clear Vision

What’s the Big Deal About Snowmaking?

by Mary Sojourner

This is not the first time I’ve traveled up this mountain.  My once-lover Dark Cloud and I hiked, camped and made love in these old Ponderosa and Fir forests.  My road buddy Everett and I crawled into a little cave in this mountain to drink water from an icy spring that tastes of volcanic rock.  I’ve danced on the thick mat of pine needles under a New Moon and followed my son up Bear Jaw trail until I had no more breath.

I would tell you that this mountain that the settlers named the San Francisco Peaks is tethered to my heart if I didn’t worry that you would then dismiss my words as those of a wannabe flake. (more…)

Savoring the Perfection in Every Moment

by Mary Sojourner

This is Eskimo Nell’s story.  I barely know her.  We met at a gem and mineral show in the Little America hotel in Flagstaff, Arizona at least fifteen years ago.  I have not seen her since then.

I bought a raw opal from her.  She gave me two more for free — a brown opal and a sunfire.  She had dug them from her little claim in Australia.

The brown opal was the size of the nail on my fourth finger.  It was a tiny puddle of glint, green and pale blue against the rough brown of its matrix.

The sun fire opal was a rough blue cylinder no bigger than the first joint of my little finger.  The surface was matte.  She had chipped off a sliver so the gleaming interior was visible.  “Put it in water,” she said, “and set it in a window in natural light. That way you’ll see the fire.”

I can’t remember the nature of the third opal.  I think I gave it to someone — a gift beyond measure. (more…)

Traversing the Spaces in Between

by Mary Sojourner

la·cu·na; pl. la·cu·nae (-n?) or la·cu·nas

1. An empty space or a missing part; a gap

2. Anatomy: a cavity, space, especially in bone…

A guy I knew forty-five years ago lives in Thailand.  He somehow found my email address and wrote me.  He’s still a lush. He’s still brilliant.  He sent me a link to a Thai newspaper article.  The site was no longer there.  I wrote him back:

The newspaper article is gone.  Those damn tricky lacunae.  Lacuna has been my favorite word for a few years.  Lacunae are a characteristic of the black widow spider’s web. People?  By and large we are tedious in our predictability.  The black widow spider isn’t surprised that she spins an asymmetrical web or that there are ragged holes in it.  The web catches food.  What more could a hard-working spider want?  Found myself by luck and not settling for less, standing in the perfect place at the base of a little mesa on July 4 to watch the fireworks being launched from its top.  Galaxies and luminous jelly-fish.  Nobody singing about bombs bursting in air.  My gratitude was doubled, for what was and wasn’t there. (more…)

I Am What I Am…

by Mary Sojourner

I walk east, away from the last light of the shortest day. The edge of the circling earth covered the sun a little earlier. I walk on Winters Road next to a ribbon of gleaming snow-melt in the High Mojave Desert. The colors of clouds and snow-melt shift: lilac to rose, rose to red-gold, red-gold to pink, pink to turquoise, turquoise to ice blue.

I let the colors fill my mind. There is barely enough room for them. I’m in a new level of my addiction recovery and withdrawal. I’m terrified ninety-five per cent of the time. Thoughts rattle. “What if? What if? What if?” The past and present jam up in the now that we are told so blithely to occupy.

Suddenly, I think not of colors or terror or the way a barbed wire ribbon of past and present has been streaming through my brain. I think of J., the gentle super-market bagger. He is a short middle-aged man, his hair faded rust. He wears thick glasses and he often talks himself through packing the groceries. “Good, that fits right there. Not the apples next to the onions. Too heavy, take out the milk.” (more…)

An Open Letter to Sarah, Michelle, and My American Sisters

by Mary Sojourner

I once shopped at a Safeway in my Tucson neighborhood. On January 8, 2011, a mentally ill young man — nearly a boy — opened fire on U.S. Representative Gabrielle Giffords and a group of people outside that Safeway. Yellow police ribbons drape the parking lot I once parked in. Six people died there, including a 9-year-old girl, a federal judge, and one of Giffords’s staff. At least ten people were wounded.

Giffords has been able to respond to doctors even though she was shot in the head. As I write this on Valentines Day 2011, she is able to say a few words and sing simple songs. Much is not known about what inspired the killer. What is known is that he  left messages on internet sites in which he expressed violent fears and viewpoints that seem to indicate he is seriously ill. What I also know is that he developed his plan — and acted — in a growing atmosphere of viciousness in America. If you doubt that, go to the CNN, Yahoo, Fox, and other major news media and read the comments following the ongoing reports on this story … and almost any story. (more…)