A GREAT BOOK FOR BOOMERS

I don’t often write about books in my blog. (Unfortunately, the demands of being a full-time writer keep me from reading all the books I’d like to read!) So, when I do recommend one, I think it’s a really good book.

And “Memoirs of a Boomer,” by artist, writer, spiritual-teacher Don Lubov (www.donlubov.com) is just such a book.

Don Lubov is a Baby Boomer who actually did many of the things most Baby Boomers only wished they could do in the sixties and seventies. One of them was about a road trip – complete with backpack and hitch-hiking-thumb – across the country and into Mexico that Lubov took in the early seventies.

Lubov left a good job to pursue his personal journey. And on the road, he runs into a colorful assortment of characters, towns, landscapes, communes, drugs, and situations, some of them hilarious, and some of them dangerous. But all of them interesting.

There were the friends of friends on which he often depended for shelter. And there were the places where he actually stopped for a few months. Such as the communes, filled with hard-working, drug-taking, farming, creative individuals and families who tried very hard to be self-sufficient enough to carve out self-sustaining communities (forty years before the world “sustainable” suddenly became in vogue). There was the eclectic “collective housing” arrangement with a wonderful bunch of characters and fellow artists in the pre-Haight Ashbury days of San Francisco.

There were more characters than you could possibly cast in any Hollywood screenplay. The Dad, Mom, and young-adult son who picked Lubov up, for instance, on a dusty road in the desolate Southwest, and who used their trip as an ongoing beer-fest, popping open and consuming cans of beer as if they were in some sort of race, and then littering the old jalopy (and the road) with beer cans and some questionable substances which could have been anything from human feces to vomit.

There were the situations, such as the mission to Mexico (which, without giving too much away, involved illegal substances) to give two men a phone number; it also involved a payment of $50,000.

There were the modes of transportation. Lubov rode on Mexican buses through dusty, time-stopped-here-a –long-time-ago villages with barking dogs and braying donkeys, while his fellow passengers included a variety of peasants, chickens, dogs, and birds. There were the flat-bed trucks in which he rode in the back, and the eighteen-wheelers in which he rode up front in the cab. There were the old jeeps, the “hippie vans,” the jalopies, the taxis (when there was enough money), the street cars, the trains, the subways.

Then there were the nights he spent camping out alone, often in harsh Western landscapes, never knowing where his next meal or his next dollar were coming from. This is a man who genuinely knew the type of hunger that most of us only read about.

And, by the end of the journey, Don Lubov genuinely knew himself, as well.

To tell you any more would be giving away some of the good stuff. And this book is so filled with good stuff that you should read it for yourself. For anyone who remembers “Leave it to Beaver” or “The Maytag Man” or President John F. Kennedy or “Planet of the Apes” (the one with Charlton Heston!) or Davey Crockett or Mickey Mantle or Twiggy or The Supremes, this is a “must” read…a romp through a time that most Boomers remember very fondly

You can order “Memoirs of a Boomer” at http://www.donlubov.com. And while you’re there, you can also see some of Lubov’s art work and his sustainable architectural designs, and read learn more about the spiritual path about which he teaches and lectures.

Don Lubov is a fascinating guy. And “Memoir of a Boomer” is a fascinating book.

Steve Winston (www.stevewinston.com) has written/contributed to 16 books, and his writing has appeared in major media all over the world. In pursuit of “The Story,” he’s been shot at in Northern Ireland, been a cowboy in Arizona, jumped into an alligator pit in the Everglades, trained with a rebel militia in the jungle, flown World War II fighter planes in aerial “combat,” climbed 15,000-foot mountains, trekked glaciers in Alaska, explored ice caves in Switzerland, and driven an ATV to the top of an 11,000-foot peak in the Rockies, and – even scarier! – back down again, with the wheels hanging over the edge of a cliff with a 3,000-foot drop.

PERSPECTIVE: TAOS ARTIST RALPH MEYERS (1885-1948)

 

Western Art & Architecture, Winter/Spring 2011

Ralph Meyers’ living room was the gathering place for
some of the greatest painters and writers in the West

by STEVE WINSTON

In the first half of the Twentieth-Century, Taos was bursting with the artistic genius and creative energy that would transform it into one of the premier art towns in America. And right in the middle of this creative burst was a painter named Ralph Meyers. 

Ralph Meyers (1885-1948) wasn’t the most famous of the Twentieth-Century Taos artists. But he was probably the most versatile.  

Meyers was a true Renaissance Man. In his house/trading-post/studio on Kit Carson Road, he taught himself how to paint, depicting with a singular style and skill the landscapes and lives and culture of the Indians he came to love. He was the most skilled silversmith in town, as well. He was a master furniture-maker, helping to define the Spanish-Colonial/Southwestern style. He created intricate beadwork, deerskin clothing, ceremonial pieces, and woven goods. He even took a turn at writing. And his legendary nighttime parties attracted Taos’ top artists and writers to his living room.  

Night after night, Ralph Meyers and his young wife Rowena entertained artists such as Joseph Sharp, Walter Ufer, Buck Denton, Nicolai Fechin, and Ansel Adams; writers such as Frank Waters and D.H. Lawrence;  and arts patrons such as Mabel Dodge Luhan and Millicent Rogers. The conversation was loud and animated, the liquor flowed, and merriment often lasted well into the wee hours.

Ralph Meyers was born and raised in Denver. He had shown an early interest in art, and, taken by the colors and the landscapes of the Southwest, he moved to Taos in 1903. To support his artistic bent, he took a job as a “fire guard” on some empty land. He eventually opened a trading post, and was considered the first white man to openly trade with the Indians of the Taos Pueblo, and to exhibit and sell their crafts at fair prices. He didn’t have his first painting exhibition until the age of 32, at the Museum of New Mexico in Santa Fe.

His works eventually came to be exhibited at The Smithsonian, the Museum of Natural History in New York, the Karl May Museum in Germany, the Denver Art Museum, and the highly-regarded Millicent Rogers Museum in Taos. He painted in the “Taos Style,” emphasizing the traditional and the mystical, and the rich colors of the region. He painted what he loved – the majestic mountains and rivers, and his Indian friends on the Taos Pueblo. And his works such as “Indians On Horseback,” “In Full Bloom,” and “A Taos Landscape With Stream” are still held in high esteem by the Southwestern art community. 

Unfortunately, all the luminaries who knew Ralph Meyers are long since gone. Except for one.

His son, Ouray Meyers, born in 1941, is a noted Southwestern artist in his own right. Ouray Meyers says that, in those days, Taos was still a place where no one would look twice if you rode down the street on your horse, while wearing your ten-gallon hat. In fact, his father Ralph often did ride down the street on his “paint” pony and in his ten-gallon hat. 

“My Dad was a seeker of knowledge,” Ouray Meyers says today. “He would talk with anyone – old-timers, gambling-hall girls, cowboys, Indians. He was a fourth-grade dropout…but he was always trying to expand his horizons.”

Ouray Meyers has indelible memories of the great artists who partied in his parents’ loving room at night…

Nicolai Fechin (1881-1955) – Fechin was a Russian émigré who came to Taos and created one of the most astonishing homes in America. Now home to the Taos Art Museum, the exterior is a white adobe structure with vigas sticking out. The interior, however, combines elements of both Southwestern and Russian, creating an Alice-In-Wonderland-like effect in which you never know what you’re going to stumble across next. You’ll find hidden doorways; miniature shelves recessed into the walls, behind miniature mahogany doors; narrow, winding staircases; secret closets; stone Southwestern fireplaces accented with Russian paintings; obscure alcoves; and Russian samovars sitting atop Pueblo blankets.

“Fechin was a good friend to my Dad,” Ouray says. “He came to America to teach art, bringing a 17-year-old bride with him, and ended up as one of the greatest artists in the country.  He was a very free spirit – as you can see by his home. And he was so intense when he worked that he was pretty much oblivious to anything else – including his wife, who eventually tired of his rants and walked out.”

Fechin was known for his wonderful portraits such as “Balinese Girl,” his scenes such as “Peasant’s House,” and drawings such as “Nikolai Fechin – Self Portrait.”

Walter Ufer (1876-1936) – Walter Ufer died before Ouray was born, but not before leaving us masterpieces such as “Desert Mountain” and “The Lone Rider.” And the techniques he used to “illuminate” his paintings had a major influence on young Ouray.

Millicent Rogers (1903-1953) – Rogers was granddaughter of one of the founders of Standard Oil, and became a legendary fashion designer. Yet, she eventually left that gilded world and moved to Taos.

“She used her inheritance for good,” Ouray Meyers says, “donating generously to improve the lives of the Indians on the Taos Pueblo. And she was a passionate campaigner for human rights.”  

Rogers’ love of Taos was evident in a letter she wrote to her son, Paul: “Did I ever tell you about the feeling I had a little while ago? Suddenly passing Taos Mountain I felt that I was part of the Earth, so that I felt the sun on my surface and the rain. I felt the stars and the growth of the moon; under me, rivers ran…”

And it’s heart-warming to know that this beautiful, wealthy heiress, who moved comfortably in the arts, fashion, and society worlds, was buried in Taos in an Indian blouse, skirt, and moccasins, wrapped in a Navajo blanket.

Mabel Dodge Luhan (1879-1962) – Mabel Dodge Luhan was a New York writer who left her artist husband behind and came to Taos. And she persuaded a lot of painters and writers (such as Georgia O’Keefe and D.H. Lawrence) to move here, as well.   

“She’d put me up on the kitchen counter while she was making cinnamon toast,” Ouray Meyers says.  “And I can still smell that cinnamon toast today.”

Mabel’s ghost is said to still inhabit her old home on Morada Street – today a B&B – as well as a few other places around Taos. In fact, one of the many Taosenos who claims to have seen her ghost is Ouray Meyers…who says that her apparition is always accompanied by the aroma of cinnamon!

Dennis Hopper once owned her house, but later sold it, saying “Mabel’s driving me crazy!”

Frank Waters (1902-1995) – Waters’ “The Man Who Killed the Deer” (1942) is still considered one of the great American novels of the first half of the Twentieth-Century. He and Ralph Meyers were great friends, and Waters used Meyers as the basis for “Rudolfo Byers” in the book.   

 “In those days, women had their babies at home,” says Meyers. “My mother was due to give birth to me at 6 in the evening. So Frank Waters came over to keep my Dad company…and he brought a jog of homemade ‘Taos Lightning’ with him. There was only one problem – I wasn’t born until 6 the next morning. And by that time, my father and Frank were both too drunk to get up off the floor!”

Joseph Sharp (1859-1953) – Sharp was known for paintings such as “White Elk, Pueblo Drummer” and “Crow Camp on the Little Bighorn.” Sharp was hearing-impaired.

“He wore a contraption on his belt that amplified sounds,” says Meyers, “and you had to speak toward it if you wanted him to hear you.”

And Ouray remembers something else about Sharp, as well.  

“I was seven years old, and I had gone to the movies with my friends,” he says. “When I came out, Joseph Sharp was waiting for me in his car. He told me my Dad was dead.” 

Herbert Denton (1878-1936) – Herbert “Buck” Denton is known for paintings such as “Delivering the Mail” and “A Lazy Day in Camp.”  Denton threw a wedding party when Ralph Meyers married Rowena Mattson. And he later bought a house and studio from Ralph Meyers.   

Eanger Irving Couse (1866-1936) – E.I. Couse may have been the most famous of all the Taos artists.  His paintings, such as “The Water Jug” and “Moonlight Spring,” often depicted calm landscapes or scenes of solitary contemplation by an Indian.

On the night that Ouray was due to be born, Couse’s daughters sent an Indian – the model for most of his paintings – down to the Meyers trading post to report back. And the Indian reported back that “the boy of the dawn has arrived.” The name Ouray was taken from an old Ute chief from across the Colorado border; and it means “Pure of Heart.”

His son is the first to point out that Ralph Meyers was hardly a saint. And, like many creative types, Ralph apparently dealt with some personal demons much of his life. 

“He was a moody person, particularly later in life,” Ouray Meyers says. “And he drank too much.”

And there was a self-destructive steak, as well.

“My Dad, in an alcohol-fueled rage, once set fire to the manuscript of a book he was working on, along with twenty paintings,” says Ouray.  “I was very young, but I’ll never forget it. And his relationship with my mother was never the same after that.”

To the rest of us, however, Ralph Meyers will be forever known for his paintings of a winter storm in an Indian camp in “Blizzard”; two mounted Indians silhouetted against a stark rock tower in “Two Riders and Shiprock”; and his peek into the majestic Rio Grande Gorge in “Gorge.”

Ralph Meyers is buried next to his old friend Mabel Dodge Luhan. His tombstone is a 650-year-old petroglyph brought by a Pueblo Indian. On it is a child’s footprint, wandering off; a human handprint; and an eagle’s claw…symbolizing a child wandering off and snatched away by an eagle.

A loved one lost. 

Steve Winston (www.stevewinston.com) has written/contributed to 16 books, and his articles appear in major media all over the world. In pursuit of “the Story,” he’s been shot at in Northern Ireland, been a cowboy in Arizona, jumped into an alligator pit in the Everglades, trained with a rebel militia in the jungle, flown World War II fighter planes in aerial “combat,” climbed 15,000 foot mountains, lived on a barge in France, trekked glaciers in Alaska, explored ice caves in Switzerland, and driven an ATV to the top of an 11,00-foot peak in the Rockies, and – even scarier – back down again, with his wheels hanging over the edge of a cliff with a 3,000-foot sheer drop.