Giddily picking out places we might live when we escaped Texas, Chelsea’s hometown, Birmingham, made the short list. But when we visited, I noticed that everywhere we went—every restaurant, store, bar—we were the only couple that wasn’t visibly straight. We couldn’t see a community where we’d belong, and the idea of starting our own seemed too daunting. Not so in Santa Fe. As we house hunted at a distance, just about every Craigslist ad for a rental came with a woman landlord: metalsmiths, weavers. We moved to Santa Fe in part because of the stereotype of women living on their own in New Mexico, which reflects a long history of lesbian artists and writers. Our current landlord, Jan, wove tapestries for Judy Chicago’s Dinner Party. She calls herself an Amazon warrior.
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