The setting is a small adobe storefront in an ancient pueblo outside Taos, New Mexico.
The shop’s owner, a young woman, is fretting over news of an active shooter on the UCLA campus. I’m admiring her wares — handcrafted dreamcatchers, wooden animals, necklaces. I bought a lovely little painting by her father, Red Willow. The woman hooks up her phone to a set of speakers and streams CNN live: the latest developments in this fragmented American decade roiling across time and space to a small Puebloan community with pre-Columbian roots.
Two men were killed in what seems to be a murder-suicide in Los Angeles.
“Be safe out there,” she said as we departed. “It’s a different world.”
Sandy 