More thoughts about "home"...
Tunes for a Monday Morning

Home is a religion

E-West 1

Since we're discussing the nature of "home" this week, I'm reminded of this sensuous, provocative passage from The Last Cheater's Waltz: Beauty and Violence in the Desert Southwest by Ellen Meloy:

"My geography savors a delicious paradox: Home--a grounding--found in unearthly beauty. The predominant colors are blue, emerald, and terra-cotta. Every day, every season, I taste these colors and the intricate flavors of their unaccountable tones and hues. I have yet to earn this land. Perhaps I never will. Home is a religion. Sensibly you understand the need for it, yet not even sensible people can explain it." 

E-West 2

The pictures here are of Endicott West, an arts retreat in Tucson, Arizona that Ellen Kushner, Delia Sherman and I set up some years ago down a dusty desert road near the Rincon Mountains. In this beautiful place, numerous writers, artists, musicians, dramatists, filmmakers and others found inspiration and a quiet environment to work in -- including me, for it was also my desert home for many years. But life moves on, things come to an end, and Endicott West is now closing its doors. I'm writing a longer piece about E-West which I'll post here at some point, when the dust of this change has had a little time to settle. In the meantime, for me, no conversation about the meaning of "home" is complete without a nod to this most magical of shared dwellings....

E-West 3Photographs by Long Realty


Do you have any desire to return for one last visit before the doors close? It's so beautiful.

There is a great deal to do to close the place down, so yes, I will be going back.

Photos can't do the place justice, but those come mighty close. My heart's breaking a little now.

Stunning place... I imagine this is hard.

I often wonder how ancient the custom of having the door face east is? When I was digging at the Bronze Age site of Cladh Hallan, on South Uist, the doors of the roundhouses all faced east. Even today the fishermen there turn their boats to face the rising sun, before they begin the days work.
Endicott West looks wondrous, and I feel an odd sense of loss reading this piece, yet I have never visited.

I never went to the sites so for me there is no farewell for Endicotte as it does still fare well in echos and rejuvenations in magical ways. I have always been thankful for Endicotte's influence in stretching imagination.

Just knowing that Endicott West existed was always a grand thing for me, and my heart lurches in my chest to think of it closing. May the new keepers of its sunrises and its fireside treat it gently, and tend it with the kindness and respect it so deserves.

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