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I have tried and tried to pinpoint the very moment crosses captured me twenty years ago. Was it the first Navajo rug I saw with crosses or the sterling silver squash blossom necklace with eight crosses framing the center naja? Was it the time I was in the Millicent Rogers Museum in Taos, New Mexico, spellbound by her personal collection of silver and turquoise Indian jewelry, many with crosses adorning them? Or was it the Santa Fe museums where I lived in my free moments?
Upon my arrival in Santa Fe, I was greeted by the state flag, which features a Zia, as well as the numerous missions and churches with their simple wooden crosses in all sizes exhibited inside and out. It was here that the romance (of what or with what? Sugg; it was here that my romance with crosses . . .) found its way into my jewelry, my western clothing, my home and my garden. I would find crosses everywhere. There were the Spanish and Indian markets, the numerous antiques shows, especially in August, the Santa Fe flea market and, of course, the numerous antiques shops I frequent all year long.