I have loved New Mexico from the first time I saw her in 1965. The spell she cast was life changing, and in 1975 I moved to New Mexico with my two young sons. I was seduced by the smell of piñon burning in corner fireplaces, the thunderclouds radiant in summer swelling before an eventual burst and the diverse cultures creating a mosaic as beautiful as a patchwork quilt.
Soon after we arrived, my sons and I traveled to all areas of the state. We pitched our tent, unrolled our sleeping bags and settled into our New Mexico experiences. While our explorations of New Mexico were frequent at first, they dwindled as the boys grew up and eventually left home.
When Covid 19 struck New Mexico in March 2020, I reviewed my mental list of well-loved villages and scenic vistas and considered the possibility of safe social distancing in remote areas of New Mexico. I speculated, I would be far enough away from the virus, and keeping my distance, I, as well as others, would remain safe.
Social Distancing is not difficult to achieve in Northern New Mexico where large tracks of land are uninhabited or uninhabitable. Whole villages may lie abandoned and tumbled down while others support a minimal population. Empty stretches of terrain are often beautiful and starkly spare.
Each Friday I ventured out with my camera to savor and capture images of beloved spots. In the first three months of Covid isolation, I visited 14 villages across Northern New Mexico. I found the landscapes as beautiful and varied as always. The once viable village life, however, was decaying. Adobe homes had crumbled or melted into heaps, doors and window frames stood stark without supporting walls, fields were fallow and farm equipment and out-dated appliances were stacked high. The population was sparse, and I seldom saw another person.
I was shocked by the poverty. Perhaps I feared, because of my own aging, I identified with the slumping buildings. Perhaps I was so in love with New Mexico 45 years ago, I did not notice the poverty at that time. Perhaps life was easier then, the fields greener and small farms and ranches were alive and thriving. Nevertheless, I was shocked, and I was sad.
There has been a trend away from rural life. Replacing antiquated electrical wiring and heating units and bringing water into houses along with toilets are expensive endeavors. It is easier and more economical to let the adobes melt, haul in mobile homes and assemble prefabricated houses.
Most of the villages I visited were located in Rio Arriba County (8). Other villages were located in the counties of Taos (1), Santa Fe (1), Mora (1), Sandoval (1), Guadalupe (1), and San Miguel (1). With the exception of Guadalupe county, the population of all remaining counties was living below the national poverty line. In Rio Arriba County alone, 26.4% of the population was living below the poverty line in 2017.
Rural New Mexico is poor, although an adequate standard of living is a basic human right that includes employment opportunities, affordable housing, health care, education and enough money to live on. My images document the poverty of rural New Mexico and the changes that are occurring. I hope those of you who see my photography will be more aware of the loss of the unique way of life that was once rural New Mexico. I ask the questions: can the decline be mitigated by attention to the human right to an adequate standard of living or must we accept that the old ways are no longer viable and turn our attention to facilitating the migration away from the rural lifestyle and towards the population centers?
The photographing of rural New Mexico has given me purpose and enjoyment during the difficult time of Covid 19. My images of “Rural New Mexico” can now be seen as a gallery in the New Mosaic portfolio of this website. I hope you enjoy them, and I welcome your comments.