There is an electric metal door that welcomes visitors to Patrick Carey’s small silversmithing and lapidary studio attached to his house. And Carey, now a great Arizona artist, was down on his luck, as one rock and roll singer called it, mother died several months ago after he cared for her during the final days, and her small house near Swan and 22nd Street got repossessed. Not a cent to his name, $600 in the hole.
As torrential rain pours and the humid air and odor of oil-streaked roads and creosote saturate the ground. It is Tucson’s lightning storm within a moment that may shift life forever, physically, or spiritually. Or your teeth may sizzle from your mind. It comes on if you want it or not.