The translation of santera, one who carves the wooden statues of St. Francis with his birds and animals, or San Pasqual with his long wooden spoon, seen all over northern New Mexico, is saintmaker. To make saints would surely be a joyful way to make a living (to live a-making). I can see that—living in a canyon, making saints.
And cooking as the heat goes from the day and the saints rest, smelling of pine shavings. Finding the evening cooking, too, a sacred way of life. A path of grace, a demonstration of true love.
I found this lovely quote in Santa Fe’s Museum of Indian Arts and Culture, and wrote it out by hand in my notebook—
“Each vase wears a necklace of prayer and song. ‘Come inside,’ we beseech the pottery, ‘teach us the song that brings joy to cooking. Teach us to pray that we may be generous and humble.’ Our pottery teaches the sacred sounds of cooking.”—Luci Tapahonso, Dine Navajo
I’m always full of longings like this when I am back home.
image: Wholesome Soul