Lissa’s friend Janis – a deep old childhood sort of friend – is visiting for the weekend from California.

We hit a brief but thick snowstorm yesterday on the drive to Santa Fe, leaving the plaza (above) in picture postcard condition. Early lunch at the diner (I barely got in on the tale end of breakfast, which meant a breakfast burrito slathered in rich red chile) and then over to the Georgia O’Keefe.

O’Keefe has almost become a cliche, a pastiche of rich-toned southwestern landscapes, but the museum does a good job of reminding that she really stands square amid the sweep of 20th century art, more than cow skulls etc.

Janis wanted to see the folk art museum, which is another treasure, almost visual overload. To recuperate, we had coffee at the newsstand in my sister’s old neighborhood off Canyon Road, where we stumbled into one of those classic Santa Fe moments – pony-tailed guru, speaking to eager disciples:

“The word is the vibration.”

There also was some talk of prophecies and transformation, and real estate.