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Lightly my toes touch the ground, pushing me off again,
like Nijinsky defying gravity as he floated across the stage;
or the anonymous shamans who painted visions of flight
on the walls of paleolithic caves; or Carlos Castaneda
asking his teacher, "Did I really fly?" Or a lung-gom-pa.

 

 

At the Pueblo Indian Cultural Center, two masked dancers tread into a room bells on ankles tinkling to drumbeats, feathered arms wheeling, dipping....my feet, too, begin to stamp, raising the sparks from embers thought long dowsed out.

Yesterday, a man was escorted from the lobby of a Ramada Inn, into the cold street. Sitting in a cafe we miss the monumentality of the carved friezes, the mobility of Lascaux, the animal portraiture of Altamira, and in their view, the basal ganglia mediate rule-guided behavior, whereas the frontal cortex provides alternatives that incorporate context-dependent processing. This can also be seen as an example of the integration of implicit encoding in the basal ganglia and explicit processing in the frontal cortex. This frontal cortex-basal ganglia system serves the elusive, delicate movement of La Pasiega. It is as though here alone, this morning, I saw the same man pushed out another door.

"How can an Indian be homeless in New Mexico?"
"When words lose their soul, we are all homeless," he slurred,
staggering out, counting coup.                                                      

As I walked home, a loud voice came from a park, "Do you have a cigarette? Do you know what time it is? What's the name of this park?" A young man wanting to talk. He told me he was from Orlando, and was here to buy horses. He liked Florida, but wanted to live in Albuquerque and become a chef. Horse meat?

 

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