The moment I wandered across the border into New Mexico, I got lost. I got lost in the old adobes with their twisted door frames and the dirt roofs that grew weeds and small trees. I got lost in the small crowded graveyards, the wood crosses splashed with faded plastic flowers. And in each village that sat by itself in its own valley.
Everything, from the empty, harsh landscape to the sweet scent of roasting chile, was full of stories that I wanted to hear...