Dan Flores

Centuries ago, my Galiseo neighbors lavishly adorned these lava boulders with petroglyphs, not a handful, not a few dozen, but with thousands of white outlined images carefully pecked into the black rock surfaces. For capturing some of the essentials of their world and their presence, nothing else brings them to life like these.

Centuries ago, my Galiseo neighbors lavishly adorned these lava boulders with petroglyphs, not a handful, not a few dozen, but with thousands of white outlined images carefully pecked into the black rock surfaces. For capturing some of the essentials of their world and their presence, nothing else brings them to life like these.

Today we call petroglyphs and pictographs rock art, but of course they express a more specific cosmic meaning than any decorative or narrative art. Picking my way from boulder to boulder atop these dikes and keening morning winds, the images have sometimes given me a Sistine Chapel feeling, at other times the open-mouth reaction one has to the Las Vegas Strip.

Today we call petroglyphs and pictographs rock art, but of course they express a more specific cosmic meaning than any decorative or narrative art. Picking my way from boulder to boulder atop these dikes and keening morning winds, the images have sometimes given me a Sistine Chapel feeling, at other times the open-mouth reaction one has to the Las Vegas Strip.

Today we call petroglyphs and pictographs rock art, but of course they express a more specific cosmic meaning than any decorative or narrative art. Picking my way from boulder to boulder atop these dikes and keening morning winds, the images have sometimes given me a Sistine Chapel feeling, at other times the open-mouth reaction one has to the Las Vegas Strip.

There are elaborately costumed kachina figures on these rocks, and having once stood in freezing December weather in Zuni Pueblo and watched a towering Xalaco kachina clacking its two-foot wooden beak while dancing a solstice blessing inside a brand new home, it's hard for me to separate the sacred from the entertaining in these images.

There are elaborately costumed kachina figures on these rocks, and having once stood in freezing December weather in Zuni Pueblo and watched a towering Xalaco kachina clacking its two-foot wooden beak while dancing a solstice blessing inside a brand new home, it's hard for me to separate the sacred from the entertaining in these images.

There are elaborately costumed kachina figures on these rocks, and having once stood in freezing December weather in Zuni Pueblo and watched a towering Xalaco kachina clacking its two-foot wooden beak while dancing a solstice blessing inside a brand new home, it's hard for me to separate the sacred from the entertaining in these images.

I also can't help imagining date nights and holding hands under a full moon, gobsmacked at white visions leaping out at you from the silvery black. The imagery is mind-bending in variety and detail. There are mythical creatures like giant horned water serpents, but also real rattlesnakes, often two in tandem, thunderbird eagles, badgers, coyotes, bears, all revered animals the Pueblos preserved.

I also can't help imagining date nights and holding hands under a full moon, gobsmacked at white visions leaping out at you from the silvery black. The imagery is mind-bending in variety and detail. There are mythical creatures like giant horned water serpents, but also real rattlesnakes, often two in tandem, thunderbird eagles, badgers, coyotes, bears, all revered animals the Pueblos preserved.

I also can't help imagining date nights and holding hands under a full moon, gobsmacked at white visions leaping out at you from the silvery black. The imagery is mind-bending in variety and detail. There are mythical creatures like giant horned water serpents, but also real rattlesnakes, often two in tandem, thunderbird eagles, badgers, coyotes, bears, all revered animals the Pueblos preserved.

There are gleaming four-pointed planets, an endless variety of different cloud terraces, which is the home of the Kachina gods, and those appear in conjunction with water serpents, mountain lions, a woman's nether parts. There are faces with or without masks, handprints, lengthy zigzag lines, spirals, fields of dots, warrior figures protected by circular shields.

There are gleaming four-pointed planets, an endless variety of different cloud terraces, which is the home of the Kachina gods, and those appear in conjunction with water serpents, mountain lions, a woman's nether parts. There are faces with or without masks, handprints, lengthy zigzag lines, spirals, fields of dots, warrior figures protected by circular shields.

There are gleaming four-pointed planets, an endless variety of different cloud terraces, which is the home of the Kachina gods, and those appear in conjunction with water serpents, mountain lions, a woman's nether parts. There are faces with or without masks, handprints, lengthy zigzag lines, spirals, fields of dots, warrior figures protected by circular shields.

While history and their struggles at sustainability mean the Pueblo people no longer live along the Galiseo River, which is my home today, their descendants remain along the Rio Grande nearby, and I like to go to the annual ceremonies they open to the public. But like so much of the human story, the past here, and even in Chaco, somehow still seems just out of my grasp.

While history and their struggles at sustainability mean the Pueblo people no longer live along the Galiseo River, which is my home today, their descendants remain along the Rio Grande nearby, and I like to go to the annual ceremonies they open to the public. But like so much of the human story, the past here, and even in Chaco, somehow still seems just out of my grasp.

While history and their struggles at sustainability mean the Pueblo people no longer live along the Galiseo River, which is my home today, their descendants remain along the Rio Grande nearby, and I like to go to the annual ceremonies they open to the public. But like so much of the human story, the past here, and even in Chaco, somehow still seems just out of my grasp.

We humans focus on the moments we exist in. Touching the past is the forever problem of history.

We humans focus on the moments we exist in. Touching the past is the forever problem of history.

We humans focus on the moments we exist in. Touching the past is the forever problem of history.