Bill Rane: Taos, Page 2.

When suddenly confronting Bill's brand of hedonic fetishism, without warning, anything, even profound violent reactivism was possible. Again, it was Taos that took care of such housekeeping chores for him. He would put out upon a street display easel holding a particularly beautiful and delighted work--perhaps with a lot of wet paint--almost blocking the door with it. He would count that as more than enough to encourage anyone dangerous to walk on down the curved lane without stepping in his direction--and that was what he wanted--that they keep moving right on by, hopefully without even consciously perceiving anything of him, his paintings, his philosophy or his life.

Bill did believe in some certainties, perhaps experientially based, certainties undeniably beyond any "rational" proof such as his certainty that beauty mattered. He did not want to be called upon to convince--it was enough to play, form, trade and suggest. He believed, for example that the highest of intelligence was that very anithma of rationality--humor. He learned that he could count on Taos to supply in number those then somewhat rare souls who had something to offer him, and who could find something to take, as well, all the while protecting him from those-presently-beyond any capcity to exist freely beyond preconception, inflexible thinking and desired outcome. Bill wanted to visit only with those who would enjoy finding that there whole view had been, up to this moment, "wrong" and he was open to that liberating discovery experience within himself.

And if Taos was good to Bill, he was good to Taos too. He took great pride in helping the aspiring recycler to afford getting to Tucson for a "green" conference. At various times, he used his new found financial strength to buy tires for a poet needing to get to Santa Fe for an open microphone reading at a coffee house, to buy a young man a set of drums so that he could play in the forming want-to-be Taos band of the moment, in helping his children get off to Chile, Vancouver, or California, to ride their own dreams of a greater world. For Bill these were the socially legimate financial "taxes" for a creative man, he was giving in the direction of source. Perhaps, too, it was his singular way of repaying Tom Noble and the other Taosenos for their sweet and gracious "overlooking" of various worldly matters, such as rent for a cold winter's stay next to the fire in another artist's studio.

Bill contribued to the Taos Land Trust, Child Rite, and many other Taos causes--sometimes there was a public note in the Taos News--but just as often quietly, anonymously or at least sub rosa--quiet as if the loss by contribution wasn't even noticed. After all that was exactly the way so many contributions were made to him--quiet as if there could never be any burden in giving at all.

A particular Taos interest of Bill's arose in concert with a particular belief. That belief was that the historical patterns of land holding in Taos, going back centuries and centures, and the commensurate hodpodge of land shapes and small holdings, as well the good stubborn nature of many Taosenos on such matters would, alone, likely and ultimately save Taos from commercialization and regressive movement to simply materialistic values. Still, it was insurance, and bona fide respect for the unusual beauty of this unique community, to support issues related to preserving Taos pasture and wetlands. If there were some things Bill did not want to experience as change, they were all of those things that kept Taos unique and focused away from the material notions of the previous age and onto spiritual, creative and aesthetic values of the times to come.

He supported and considered genius the legal development of so-called visual or nondevelopment easements and making contributions to the Taos Land Trust was of particular interest for him. He wanted Taos to be ready for the "next artist" and keeping Taos artist friendly, not just socially, or culturally, but visually was an important value for him

Finding Taos, for Bill, meant that for once in his life he knew community as a "part" rather than as an "outsider". His Taos years were happy years and the most productive of his many, many years of painting.