Synchronicity in Santa Fe: Channeling Transformation

Santa Fe, New Mexico, is not merely a geographical location; it's a canvas where the spiritual and artistic realms weave a vibrant tapestry, capable of touching souls and igniting change. Lisa Hopkins' latest podcast episode invites listeners on a profound journey through this enchanting town, sharing experiences that resonate deeply with the heart's yearning for transformation.

The story begins with Lisa's arrival in Santa Fe, a moment that marks the onset of liberation and self-discovery. She recounts the initial days spent roaming the historic streets, allowing the town's essence to envelop her senses. This was not just sightseeing; it was a pilgrimage, a quest for personal truth among the adobe buildings and azure skies. Lisa's narrative explores the profound impact of place on personal growth, highlighting how Santa Fe's blend of history, spirituality, art, and nature serves as a backdrop to her own unfolding story.

The podcast not only recounts Lisa's experiences but also offers listeners a chance to reflect on their own paths. It's an invitation to embrace the transformative power of art, to find solace in the introspective beauty of change, and to carry the spirit of Santa Fe forward. As listeners journey through the podcast, they are encouraged to consider how their own lives are works of art, subject to revision and reimagining, and how every step taken is part of a grander design.

A philosophical exploration, a guide to living with intention and wonder. It teaches us to appreciate the mosaic of life while being open to its transformation into something more fluid, interconnected, and surprising. Lisa Hopkins' journey through Santa Fe's creative landscape becomes a mirror for our own, reflecting the profound and beautiful process of becoming who we are meant to be.

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Transcript

Lisa Hopkins: 0:23

Hey there. So you haven't heard from me in a little over a week because I was unplugged and spending some time in Santa Fe with one of my mentors. I've never been to Santa Fe, new Mexico, but it was truly a sublime experience and there's something I discovered there, among other things, that I'd love to share with you. I arrived at the event on Monday evening and had two days to myself before the actual event began. Had two days to myself before the actual event began, but for me the event truly began the moment I got on the plane. I arrived at night and it had been a long day of travel, so it wasn't until Tuesday morning that I woke up and got a sense of where I was. It felt liberating to be all alone in a new place which was mine to discover, and that I had plenty of time to think about what lay ahead for me with my mentor. So I got ready that morning and out I went. I was quite hungry because I hadn't eaten all day the day before due to great connections which didn't allow me eating. So, double-edged sword.

Lisa Hopkins: 2:04

Like most of us, in anticipation of coming to this new place, I did have some preconceived notions, and I think the distinction between preconceived notions and expectations is an important one. Although I didn't actually expect anything of the place. Although I didn't actually expect anything of the place, I did kind of again, due to my research, have these preconceived notions about what it would look like, what it would feel like, and so I observed myself as I walked out the hotel room and into the hotel lobby and then out the lobby of the hotel. I observed myself looking around, trying to find something to grab onto that matched that preconceived notion I had of what Santa Fe was supposed to look like. Isn't it funny. I wasn't disappointed, but because it was a new place and because I only had my research, I think it's perfectly natural to want to grab onto something that matches what you know or believed. I took a deep breath and let any of those thoughts or notions go and I made my way into town and the closer I came to the center of town, where the square and the vendors and the architecture and the colors and the sun and the blue sky, it all enveloped me and it didn't matter anymore what I thought it would be, because it just was in this moment. And what it was, let me tell you, was sublime, was sublime. There was just this energy, this feeling of deep-rooted history and connectivity and spirituality, and art and color and stories. About every single thing you looked at. It was phenomenal. So you remember I said I was hungry. Well, I did have my coffee, but the hunger subsided because the hunger for exploration was stronger than my hunger in my stomach. And so I went forth and I explored and I wandered, I roamed in and out of gardens and galleries, through churches and sculpture gardens to this particular adobe building which happened to be the New Mexico Museum of Art. It was such a beautiful structure and I took a picture of it from across the street. I noticed that there was a sign up on the wall, but I couldn't read it, so I moved closer.

Lisa Hopkins: 5:26

I think it's important to note that I've really been thinking about how I've talked about my life as a mosaic, a combination of all the beautiful pieces of my life that have come together to make this beautiful whole, and I've always identified with that. But lately I've been having this kind of inner knowing, this sense that maybe it's time to melt, to change the form of the mosaic, to make it more fluid and less separated by grout, like mosaics are the grout in our life, if you will Less siloed, more all-in-one and less distinguishable except when really all mixed in together. So I'd been kind of thinking a lot about this. So I'd been kind of thinking a lot about this, and as I neared the sign on the side of the museum maybe it's no surprise, but the artist that was exhibiting the title of the exhibit was To Make, unmake and Make Again I was profoundly drawn in.

Lisa Hopkins: 6:49

When synchronicities like this happen in my life, I suddenly become very laser focused, and so I knew that I was going into the museum, and into the museum I went and I spoke to the docent at the door, who pointed me in the direction of this particular exhibit, which was my number one thing to see. She pointed me to the left and said go that way. And so I did. And I walked into an area where there was a well, to me it looked like a theater, but I'm guessing it was a chapel of some kind and there was a stage and it was quite lovely. And I breathed that in, just recognizing how comfortable I felt. Nothing was going on there. In fact some of the technicians were working on something. Well, the exhibit clearly wasn't there.

Lisa Hopkins: 7:50

So I wandered upstairs, which was the only way you could go beyond going outside again. So up the stairs I went and I was on the balcony of the theater and again I looked down and smiled, grateful for all the many, many years I've had behind the scenes in my theatrical life. But the exhibit was not there. It was nowhere to be found. So I looked to my right and there was a door that was ajar. So I passed through.

Lisa Hopkins: 8:30

I found myself on the roof. The sky was vast and blue and the sun bright. There was a kind of rooftop plaza, not meant for people, but there I was, in an area where perhaps I was not supposed to be. I took a photograph, of course, and it occurred to me that this is a pattern in my life passing through doors that are ajar. In any case, it was getting warm and I really did want to see the exhibit. So there was a door on the other side of the roof and I thought well, I'll go through there. Maybe that's where it is. Keep in mind that that door was not ajar.

Lisa Hopkins: 9:21

So as I made my way over there, being careful not to fall through the roof, which was a little softened by the sun, fall through the roof, which was a little softened by the sun, and when I reached the door, the door was locked. The door on the other side was locked. I worried for a split second that I might get caught or, worse yet, locked up there in burning bright light of the Santa Fe sun, and so I went back the way that I came Back through the theater and down into the museum, eventually finding the exhibit which I'll tell you about in a moment. Finding the exhibit which I'll tell you about in a moment. I noticed later that in the photo that I took that there is a ladder lying down on the ground on the roof, where I stood and on my journey to integrate all of me into my work. The metaphor intrigues me. The ladder was lying down between an open door and a closed door. Interesting, I'll continue to explore that.

Lisa Hopkins: 10:44

The fact that I was invited to go back down through the theater, back through my history, back through that part of me to the exhibit, was not lost on me and this idea that it's not always about going forward and forging and moving ahead and leaving things behind or keeping them separate with the grout. The first sign that I saw in the exhibit described the artist as a potter, scholar, writer, collector, curator, publisher, dealer, maker. I smiled as I thought about how boldly it said each of the things that he was. Another sign said time to grow. I snapped a shot of something that the artist, rick Dillingham, said about his work. He said I calculate my process but not my work. The juxtaposition of basic stripes, zigzags, triangles and circles on the surface looks tricky, but it is not consciously set out to be a new image. When I put these things together, it's as much a surprise to me as to the viewer Interesting. I continued to meander through the exhibit and his work was beautiful. To meander through the exhibit and his work was beautiful, but somehow I knew that that wasn't what I was seeking. And then I found it.

Lisa Hopkins: 12:36

Underneath the glass casing was a typed letter from a fellow artist and mentor, I believe, and it was dated May 6th 1993. The author of the letter was a hundred years old when she wrote it. I'm going to read it to you now to see if it resonates with you as it did with me. You can replace potting, which is what this woman did, with whatever it is, that you strive to be in the world and see what it means to you. Again, keep in mind that when she wrote it she was 100 years old. She writes Dear Rick, when you speak about a new freedom in your work, I wonder what you mean, because I have found your pieces free and complete in themselves, with a fine sense of decoration.

Lisa Hopkins: 13:37

When we hear about what millions have to endure in other places in the world, I think those of us working in clay are very lucky. I know now that I've reached 100. I will have to leave this world before long. I am mad because there are so many glaze formulas I want to try. I know if I live another 50 years I would have the same comment, for I have an insatiable curiosity, except about men. One of my friends said it doesn't matter how long we live, it is how we live. That remark goes with me. Even though I'm mad that I cannot live forever. I don't fear death, for I have read so much and know of so many strange experiences. I think it's just stepping into another consciousness.

Lisa Hopkins: 14:33

And then she goes on to talk about her life and who's in her life and she signs off by saying and she signs off by saying but in spite of everything going on in the world, the real interest that I have is seeing that my two dogs and two cats are petted and happy with love. I was moved by this, profoundly moved by this, and again, if you listen again, you will hear yourself in her words. It was really quite remarkable to me. When I got home, I researched her and she lived another five years. She lived to 105 years old. Amazing right, amazing right.

Lisa Hopkins: 15:23

So the meeting with my mentor and the event and my peers was beyond my expectations as well, and I could go on to talk about that. But what I'd like to share with you is, after the event was over, I took a walk and I took a turn into this little alleyway where some artists were displaying their art, and I was feeling quite light and open and full and I was drawn towards this particular piece of art, which actually at first I thought was a painting, but it turns out it was a photograph. So I walked towards it and when I got there, I met the artist, who is a fine art photographer, who's based in Santa Fe, and I learned that she had come from Bali, indonesia, and that she couldn't speak, and she was the most beautiful being. We had no problem communicating In fact our communication without her being able to speak just made it that much more rich. Suffice to say, I bought the beautiful photograph of the blue door and I'm going to leave you with this thought.

Lisa Hopkins: 17:01

There's a poem that she wrote that's on the back and, again, I think it's no coincidence that I received this as I was getting ready to leave Santa Fe. It says the Blue Door In the heart of Santa Fe is a blue door with a metal bell on top. From far away, maybe you can hear this bell ringing. The bell asks us is this the way the knots of the heart are untied? Here in the summer, there are many roses. In the winter, by the blue door, the snows will drift. The artist's name is Sinta, sinta Tornick. I'm going to leave you with that. My friends, I'm Lisa Hopkins. Stay safe and healthy. Thanks so much for listening and remember to live in the moment.