
This looks like a custom painted roadster black on black by Rose Simpson in honor of the San I potter Maria Martinez, at MIA, the photo if not the car
Alisa Patnuade says she’s fixing to retire and start a new life as an artist of some sort after many years of service for we the people and our fair state. She sent regrets about having to miss my Jane Monheit show, but was kind enough to send regards and then pick up the phone so we could gab, gab, gab.
When she mentioned North Dakota I was reminded that she has heritage in the Chippewa community. She said her mom and pa were both half, so she is half too. (Elizabeth Warren, if you are reading this, take note). We talked a bit about her brother Donald — we all rode the school bus together three or four years — and four women she recently saw as a “50th Reunion” of their kindergarten days — whereas I came to the hood in 1974, age 10, fifth grade.
I mentioned to her a cool show of Native Art in Minneapolis at its Institute of Art, of Mia –which reminds me if you ex-squeeze the digression Mia Levin of 7th, 8th and 9th grade only is my “Miss M” for my rock series.
The above is by Rose Simpson a Santa Clara (New Mexico, a pueblo) artist. I don’t know if I’ve met her but I’ve met or spoke to Roxanne Swentzell (her mom), Diego Romero (her former step dad), Mateo Romero (former step uncle I guess; Cochiti), Santiago Romero (step brother), Jody Naranjo, cousin; oh, yes, Susan Folwell, Jody Folwell — I wonder how many of them are in the show — It’s all ladies, actually. The sisters are doing it for themselves. Which reminds me that Rose apaprently also sings or raps (and therefore turned down the chance to be in The Pueblo Girls apocryphal or dream world rock band — i.e. opens for Journey and the like, on aesthetic principles or too busy.
I bought the catalog and only got as far as Hopi.
Maybe I will make it to the show. In Minneapolis. (I used to have cousins in St. Paul but I think they went east-ward. The photo above, the mast for Plastic Alto, is me in a bowling alley in St. Paul).
I remember Donald Patnaude.