Tucson. January, 1992

This photo says Tucson to me. The light of an early evening, even in January. The colors displayed with a caliente abandon that you’d never see back home in New England. The casual approach that’s found in every aspect of life there, from dressing to dining to waking up in the morning. Gwen possesses all these things, too. She comes from Lubbock, Texas, but she is total Tucson to me. She buys inexpensive properties, fixes them up little by little, lives in them or rents them or both. I associate her most with this house where I first met her. Having breakfast in her kitchen, I didn’t know where to look, so many interesting hues, objects, oddities, all vying for attention. At last count, she was living in a rehabbed church, singing along with her opera recordings under the high ceiling. Gwen often works in local elementary schools, using puppets to tell stories, to encourage young students to do the same. And the kids love it, love her. When you’re out around town with her, you’ll sometimes hear a little excited voice blurt out, “Mommy! Look! It’s the puppet lady!”