I know it's not cool, but I had a good excuse.
We went to the State of Hate over the weekend.
And even though it was hot as hell in the Valley of the Sun, the climate improved as we moved north on I 17. We were going to the 80th birthday party of my dear Aunt Francie, the younger sister of my mother. She lives in Sedona in one of those cool Santa Fe type houses with absolutely breathtaking views of this land of giant chiseled red rock.
The sun was just about perfect as we came through Oak Creek and into town. The Chapel of the Holy Cross was nestled in the blazing rock to our right. The church was commissioned by sculptor Marguerite Brunswig Staude, student of Frank Lloyd Wright. When it was built in 1956, there was barely anything in the valley below it. Today, the area is full of homes. One is particularly ugly. Supposedly, the Chapel is situated on one of the Sedona Vortexes.
Sedona is still full of psychic this and meta that, and there is plenty of opportunity to get spiritual, get a good massage, take a hike, or take a jeep ride into these remarkable sandstone hills and formations. Every night, as the heat of the day would fall away into the dark clear sky,
the magic of this place became evident.
I had been here before, but somehow I didn't appreciate just how splendid these giant red rock formations are. It's like Monument Valley, but with silk sheets. It must have been a killer place to live if you were an Indian though. And yes, all you white Arizonans, there have been people of color living on your land way before your religion even thought of spreading and even before your religion says anyone was anywhere. (Clovis points have been found here.)
We took a Pink Jeep ride to see one of these settlements. And we weren't disappointed. Here's a short video of the trip.
Labels: the world