Georgia O’Keeffe’s bedroom is small and spare, with a narrow bed, dark plaster, and two entire walls of plate glass. The only ornamentation is a row of smooth, rounded stones and a Buddha’s hand, positioned in a gesture that indicates fearlessness, protruding from the earthen wall near the modest fireplace. From this cloistered perch in the village of Abiquiú, O’Keeffe could see the entire world. Past the cottonwood trees lining the Rio Chama. Beyond the chalk-smeared bluffs of Plaza Blanca and the snaking road to Española and Santa Fe. Out even into Texas, Wisconsin, Chicago, Virginia, South Carolina, New York, Peru, and Asia. All of the geography that tinted her life, that was ground with pigment and oil under her brushes, and that led her ultimately to work among earth, bones, and sky in a land as remote, as celebratory, and as wildly independent as her own soul.
Georgia O’Keeffe’s bedroom is small and spare, with a narrow bed, dark plaster, and two entire walls of plate glass. The only ornamentation is a row of smooth, rounded stones and a Buddha’s hand, positioned in a gesture that indicates fearlessness, protruding from the earthen wall near the modest fireplace. From this cloistered perch in the village of Abiquiú, O’Keeffe could see the entire world. Past the cottonwood trees lining the Rio Chama. Beyond the chalk-smeared bluffs of Plaza Blanca and the snaking road to Española and Santa Fe. Out even into Texas, Wisconsin, Chicago, Virginia, South Carolina, New York, Peru, and Asia. All of the geography that tinted her life, that was ground with pigment and oil under her brushes, and that led her ultimately to work among earth, bones, and sky in a land as remote, as celebratory, and as wildly independent as her own soul.
