Michelle Cromer | Michelle Cromer

The Mystery of the Loretto Chapel Staircase

Michelle Cromer August 5, 2024 Leave a Comment

There is a staircase in the Loretto Chapel in Santa Fe, NM, which is famous for its “Miraculous staircase, a spiral staircase with a fascinating history and unique construction.

There is a staircase in in the Loretto Chapel in Santa Fe, NM, which is famous for its “Miraculous staircase, a spiral staircase with a fascinating history and unique construction.

When the Loretto Chapel was completed in 1878, there was no way to access the choir loft, twenty- two feet above. The sisters of the Loretto Chapel wanted a staircase and spoke to many carpenters and none of them said the staircase was possible due to the small space.

Legend has it that to find a solution the sisters made a novena to St. Joseph, the patron saint of carpenters. On the ninth and final day of prayer, a man appeared at the chapel with a donkey and a toolbox looking for work.

The stranger locked himself inside the chapel and worked. Months later, the elegant circular staircase was completed, and the carpenter disappeared without regard to pay. The sisters ran an ad in the local paper trying to find him, and there was no trace. They concluded that St Joseph himself built that staircase.

Also, there are some unusual attributes of the staircase are: There are no nails or glue, the carpenter only used wooden pegs to secure the steps together, and for hundreds of years this staircase, which goes against the rules of physics. And the wood used for the stairs was sent off for analysis and the results showed it to be spruce, but an unspecified subspecies. What was determined is there is no wood like that in New Mexico or any of the surrounding states. The closest place one can find this is in Alaska, 3728 miles away, and back then there wasn’t a way for wood to be transported such a long distance.

Whatever the case, this staircase has become a treasure to the world and to me, and it continues to inspire awe and curiosity, blending elements of faith, mystery, and architectural magic.

Are you wearing the best colors for you? Each of us has a power color based on the five elements and the day we were born. Sign up for my email list and provide me the day, month, and year of your birth and I will send you your birth element and power color!

Speak Softly and Carry a Big Can of Spray Paint

Michelle Cromer July 30, 2024 Leave a Comment

It was August of 1983, and it was another scorching hot summer day in New York City, the kind of day when the streets simmer with heat, radiating waves that distort the urban landscape. The air was thick and heavy, carrying the scent of asphalt and sweat. People sought refuge in the shade of towering skyscrapers or found relief in the cool embrace of air-conditioned buildings. The relentless sun beat down on the bustling streets, casting long shadows and turning the city into a sweltering concrete jungle. Despite the oppressive heat, life in the city pulsated on, with vendors selling their ice-cold drinks, children playing in open fire hydrants, and the distant sound of car horns blended in with the hum of air conditioners. It felt as if the heat was chasing me from room to room, from building to building, and from street to street.

Like most days, I was attempting to navigate the maze of streets, avenues, and neighborhoods. And I got lost. The countless intersections, crowded sidewalks, and towering buildings seemed to disorient me daily. These were the days before Google Maps, and I never seemed to have a paper one. I often joked that my sense of direction was so lacking, I wouldn’t even be able to find my way out of a box. So, it was common to find me wandering down unfamiliar streets, relying on chance encounters or helpful locals to find my way. Getting lost in NYC can be both an adventure and a challenge.

I was walking south on Prince Street, heading down to the financial district where I was studying finance when I crossed over Broadway and accidently turned to the right onto Crosby Street. And there it was on the left-hand side; a building full of an art medium I had never experienced. Graffiti.

This street art held me in its spell, rendering me motionless. Every stroke and every detail seemed to command my gaze, drawing me deeper into its mesmerizing world. It reminded me of modern-day hieroglyphs, I knew there were messages in the striking visual language. I was captivated by the energy, the simplicity, and the complexity. It was raw, expressive, bold, and unique. It blurred the line between fine art and street with the enigmatic symbols and text.

It was as if I had been transported into another realm, where time seemed to stand still. The hours passed in what felt like minutes as I contemplated the deeper meaning and allowed myself to be swept away but the emotions it evoked in me.

When the enchantment lifted, the art stepped off the wall of the building and followed me home.

I learned the artist was Jean-Michel Basquiat, and discovered that he was young, the same age I was at the time. He had been born in Brooklyn to Haitian and Puerto Rican parents in 1960.

Undoubtedly, Jean-Michel Basquiat’s art was deeply intertwined with his childhood memories. His room was upstairs in the rear of the Brooklyn building, which afforded him a panoramic view of a diverse tapestry of imagery – captivating buildings and the sprawling skyline. His passion for music, nurtured by his father’s teachings on jazz and classical music, left an indelible mark on his artistic journey. It’s no surprise that critics often drew parallels between his later works and the improvisational, expansive nature of jazz compositions, a testament to the profound influence of these formative years on his creative expression.

Basquiat, whose graffiti tag was SAMO, left home as a teenager to live in Lower Manhattan, playing in a band, painting, and supporting himself with odd jobs. In the late 1970’s he became known for his graffiti. In 1980, after a group of artists from the punk and graffiti underground held a show in Times Square, Basquiat’s paintings began to attract the attention of the art world, which at the time had not made much room for cultural diversity.

In the 1981 article “The Radiant Child,” which helped catapult Basquiat to fame, critic Rene Ricard wrote, “We are no longer collecting art we are buying individuals. This is no piece by SAMO. This is a piece of SAMO.” This statement captured the market-driven ethos of the 1980s art boom that coincided with polarizing views played out in government and media, known as the culture wars. In this context, Basquiat was keenly aware of the racism frequently embedded in his reception, whether it took the form of positive or negative stereotypes. In his work, he integrated a critique of an art world that both celebrated and tokenized him. Basquiat saw his own status in this small circle of collectors, dealers, and writers connected to an American history rife with exclusion, invisibility, and paternalism, and he often used his work to directly call out these injustices and hypocrisies.

Like numerous sacred sites I’ve encountered, from the majestic dome of the Capitol Rotunda in Washington DC to the haunting stone crypts of New Orleans, the Parthenon within Centennial Park in Nashville, and even the ancient temples and pyramids in Egypt along with Stonehenge, Basquiat’s works are imbued with layers of meaning. Much like these revered landmarks, his images harbor double and triple entendre, inviting viewers to interpret them through their own unique lenses.

Basquiat’s art possesses a transformative essence that transcended the ordinary, propelling me into realms of imagination previously unexplored. His work became a beacon, illuminating new perspectives and prompting me to perceive the world through fresh, unexpected lenses. Its impact remains etched on my soul, a testament to the profound influence of artistic expression. Basquiat’s creations not only enriched my life but also served as a poignant reminder of the infinite dimensions of the human creativity.

A sacred site can manifest in a myriad of ways. For some, it’s a pilgrimage to a cathedral, a path trodden by countless pilgrims over millennia. Yet, for me, it was an unexpected encounter, a stumble upon a masterpiece. The essence of a sacred site isn’t confined to places with historical reverence; rather its sanctity arises from the profound impact it has on you – what you see, but more crucially, how it makes you feel.

If there is a trick to soulful travel, it is learning to see for yourself. The difference between a soulful traveler and a tourist is the intention of the attention and the quality of the curiosity. The result of this personal discovery on Crosby Street on a single day compelled me to return again and again and again to deepen my understanding. The artist and soulful travelers are in parallel realms, and by nature are similar; like Siamese twins, they are connected by the tissue of desire to experience the world directly. And like the art of Basquiat, the beauty in the world is made visible by seeing with the eyes of the heart.

Several years later, on August 12, 1988, and no longer living on Crosby Street, this young, wildly successful artist tragically died of a heroin overdose at the age of 27. I remember it vividly because this news cracked open my heart like a boiled egg. I was renting a loft on the top floor of a building erected back in 1908, nestled in downtown El Paso. The expansive window at the back of my loft offered a panoramic view of Ciudad Juarez, Mexico. It was a Friday, and as I left the advertising agency where I worked, I made sure to leave on time. Exiting my office, I hopped in my trusty old blue Mustang convertible, its top down, and made a brief stop at the corner liquor store in my neighborhood and bought a modest red cabernet.

Back in the sanctuary of my loft, with my wine in hand, I gazed out over the shimmering lights of Juarez. With each sip, I felt a connection to Basquiat whose untimely death had shaken the art world, including my own. Though I had never crossed paths with him in person, his art and his heart, felt deeply personal to me. I mourned the loss of Basquiat as if bidding farewell to a dear friend.

As I raised my glass in a silent tribute, I understood that some people transcend the boundaries of mere acquaintance, they become impactful figures in our lives. And that’s when I knew. Some people are sacred too.

Tibet a Vanishing Nation

Michelle Cromer July 22, 2024 Leave a Comment

On a remote plateau thousands of feet above sea level, there used to exist a place whose chief attraction was the traditional virtues embodied by its culture; warmth, humility, and devotion. That place used to be Tibet. When I visited Tibet in the summer of 2005 I discovered a country holding fast to its identity but facing an uncertain future. I just returned from my second trip to Tibet and I found the culture destroyed, the people murdered, and a country with no future.

My son August wanted to go to Tibet after he graduated from high school. I tried to talk him out of it. The trip is hard. Hard physically because Lhasa sits at 13,000 feet and I knew we would travel up to almost 18,000. Hard emotionally because August has never seen what a communist country can do to the powerless. Hard spiritually because tourists are forced to witness the manipulation and extermination of a culture and its belief system.

Chinese military officials supervised our arrival at the Gingko airport. The borders were closed days before our arrival, yet somehow, we still got our visas and made it in. No one on our plane out of Kathmandu was allowed to stay.

Our guide met us outside the airport, which used to be in the middle of empty countryside. Now, government buildings and blood-red Chinese flags surround the entire airport. The barley fields next to the broad river are still there, but the surrounding mountains are now filled with tall silver utility polls, stuck on the mountaintop with no regard for the land. Shiny billboards cover what used to be deep blue skies.

As we drove into Lhasa it was clear that what was once the coexisting of several centuries is now only modern China. In the last six years, Lhasa has mushroomed from the size of Santa Fe to the size of Phoenix, complete with car dealerships, shopping malls, and a Times Square-looking video sign in front of the Potala Palace.

“Religion is poison,” Mao Tse-tung had told the Dali Lama in 1954, early during the Chinese occupation of Tibet. After 1959 when the Dali Lama fled to India, the Chinese moved to undercut the power of the monasteries, which owned most of the arable land and loaned money to the poor villagers. Red guards, fired up by Mao’s denunciation of religion, pounded Chortens and statues into dust, some of which have been rebuilt but they now embody tawdry kitsch produced by Chinese-led restoration efforts in Tibet.

What was obviously missing were all the Tibetan people. I only saw old Tibetan women, who were routinely shoved off the sidewalks and into the streets by the military which filled the streets with their green uniforms. We were told that due to a hunger strike led by the monks in March of 2008, which enraged the Chinese government, 5000 Tibetans were kidnapped, NEVER TO BE SEEN OR HEARD FROM AGAIN!! There is a genocide occurring in Tibet and no one knows about it!!

The military marched all day and all night up and down the streets carrying weapons. Also crowding the streets are Chinese tourists who have been encouraged to visit Tibet, rather than the Chinese Disneyland version of Tibet.

After having suffered Communism, Tibetans now confront a dissolute capitalism, one that seeks arrogantly, often violently, to turn their culture and beliefs, and the world’s diverse humanity into middle-class consumers. It has been Tibet’s fate to be the laboratory of the cruelest experiments humanity has performed upon itself in the modern era. However, faced with an aggressively secular materialism, the Tibetans may still prove, almost alone in the world, how religion, usually dismissed, and not just by Mao, as “poison,” can be the source of cultural identity and moral values.

I know we all live halfway around the world from this magical and mystical place and you might not think these affect you, but it does in more ways than just “we are all connected.” The Chinese government is murdering thousands of innocent people simply because they are not Chinese, and they are getting away with it! Many Chinese are being murdered because they refuse to “toe the party line. “China is about to surpass America as the next big superpower. And, America owes China money! Pick up anything in your home or office and look where it is made, CHINA! By allowing the Chinese government to exterminate Tibet, we just put more fuel in the fire of this big red murdering machine. Please get involved to free Tibet. There are many organizations out there that are trying to help like www.freetibet.org. Buy a tee shirt and wear it or give up coffee for a morning and donate the money you would have spent. If you do nothing else, please pray for the Tibetans. After all, they have been praying for the rest of the world, every single day, for centuries.

What is the Meaning of Life?

Michelle Cromer July 18, 2024 Leave a Comment

I’ve been thinking about the meaning of life and the impermanent nature of it all. Observing how we do what we do, the struggles we put ourselves through, the drama, the pain, and the suffering.

When I look around, I see struggling—in my own life and in the lives of others. It seems like, even though there’s an abundance of goodness in our lives, the prevalent theme seems to be this struggle to find balance, peace, and happiness.

I race and I chase, all so that I can make more money, have more success, be more attractive, and hopefully be happier in some distant future when I’ve hit some superficial and randomly selected target. But will that day ever arrive? You and I both know how this game goes: the wanting for more never ends; and happiness will always (unless we intervene) appear to be just a reach away, in “some day” land, when we’ve finished this project or have reached that goal. We stride through life as if we will live forever. We treat time as a cheap commodity that we blindly waste. We become consumed by negativity. We hide behind victim stories. We get stuck in jobs and relationships that we dislike.

We surround ourselves with anxiety, stress, and depression. Failing to recognize that these “dis-eases” and uncomfortable emotions are our soul’s way of saying, “Wake up! It’s time for a change, baby. This isn’t working.”

We give up our dreams, our art, and our purpose, and trade our lives in exchange for money so that we can make a living. While making money to sustain our needs is inevitable, in the making of a living we sometimes forget our unique gifts, we temporarily lose touch with the enormity of our inner being, and we distance ourselves from the confidence of our unique expressions.

It’s all so exhausting.

And before we know it, the sands of our hourglass run out, and we face the end of our brief existence on this planet—unfulfilled and regretful for all that we’ve missed.

I know this may sound harsh, and it is. Viewing how we live in its blunt, naked candor can feel rough around the edges. Truth stings. At the same time, we can use this emotionally charged observation to our advantage—to inspire us and to move us such that we begin to live. It’s time to restructure our lives, how we live, how we prioritize, and how we contribute.

Perhaps, the only thing that matters is love, and all the chasing we do is just misdirected energy.   Perhaps, all the stress is unnecessary, and we are making life a lot more complicated than it needs to be.   There’s an easier route to happiness—by focusing on doing good work, contributing value to society, sharing joyful experiences with people we like, and remembering to slow down to savor the moments.

So what is the meaning of life?

I don’t think any single answer can be ubiquitously shared and be applicable to everyone. So I’ll answer for myself, from my current state of understanding. Life is whatever meaning we give it—and we can literally give it any meaning that “feels right” to us. There’s a blank canvas in front of you. You are the artist of your life, and you are free to paint any picture that pleases you—and change it at any time for that matter.

Life is short.
Life is precious.
What are you dreaming about?

Go do it. Go make it happen. Go do it despite fear and doubt and the opinions of others. Go do it, because it makes you happy. Go do it, because it makes you come alive.

Who are you holding a grudge against? Forgive them, today, right now. Decide that you will heal, and decide to tell a different story.
Where do you want to visit? Plan for it, even if you don’t yet have the money. Keep moving in that direction, and I promise you that you will find a way.
Who do you love? Give them your full attention. Create the time and space to connect with them. Put love at the top of your list.

In the end, love is all that matters. Love for ourselves, for other people, for our work, for all the unique experiences of life, and for God. Life is simple, but we insist on making it complicated. Let’s make it simple again.

Cultivating Inner Calm

Michelle Cromer July 8, 2024 Leave a Comment

I had a timely question – with everything going on in the world, how can we remain calm? Good question.

When the world or our lives are in chaos, we can still have our own inner peace and maintain calm.

I have a friend Eric whose life has been in chaos for almost a decade due to managing the care and well-being of many sets of parents, all of whom he’s in charge. He is navigating all of their lives, and his, all at the same time. And yet when I speak with Eric I get an overwhelming sense of calm.

People who maintain their sense of calm when things around them are in a state of confusion are always a joy to be around. We feel at peace just being near them as if they have activated our own sense of inner peace. From them, we learn that we too can be calm, even when everything around us is in turmoil because we know that no matter what happens, this inner sense of calm will help us to function well.

Often, times of confusion are the times that enable us to find that part of ourselves that knows how to cope, and how to be a light to others in the storm. If we can locate the stillness at the center of our hearts, in the center of our souls, we can find composure in almost any situation. In addition, we provide a safe place for our friends and family, who are also prone to taking on the confusion of a world in flux.

Most of us just want to find our way to being at peace with whatever happens, and we can find this peace inside. Cultivating our inner calm can be as simple as developing a meditation practice, journaling, and reading words that inspire us, going out in nature and planting our feet in grass every day, developing a routine, and moving your chi every day with exercise, this will lead us to that place inside us that’s already there, just waiting for us to discover it.

Are you wearing the best colors for you? According to the ancient art of Feng Shui, each of us has a power color based on the five elements and the day we were born. Sign up for my email list and provide me the day, month, and year of your birth and I will send you your birth element and power color!

Follow Me