What would it look like to bring nightlife, weirdness, and shared creative energy back to downtown Raton—inside a sky-blue, jerry-built, drafty-on-a-good-day building full of eccentric artists, elbow grease, and at least one allegedly cursed painting?
Enter Meditating Monkey Art Emporium: a new-ish patch of glorious chaos, open to anyone who wants to make something, watch something get made, or buy something earnest and slightly bizarre. This is not your precious boutique that side-eyes paint-by-number kits. The Monkey blends thrift-store charm, boutique-quality supplies, and souvenir-level kitsch into a mix that somehow makes perfect sense in a town that needs both reliable art materials and a place to land after work. The shop stocks durable, pro-level tools alongside basic starter kits for kids and beginners. Visitors will find regional souvenirs, jewelry, games, and a rotating marketplace of local vendors selling everything from Chicano culture merchandise to wearable artisan fashion. Come in for long-term supplies, grab a ridiculous magnet for your cousin, and leave a little richer in community vibes.
What sets the Monkey apart is how retail operates inside an active social engine. Downstairs holds the gallery and shop—and occasionally becomes a standing ovation room for a fearless karaoke singer. Upstairs, the owners are preparing an auditorium space for live music, community dances, and whatever inventive chaos locals decide to test-drive. The programming favors low barriers and high repeatability: open mic nights with variations like lip-sync battles, trivia nights with gift certificates for winners, an ongoing Dungeons & Dragons campaign complete with complimentary snacks and silly voices, youth art competitions, movie nights with punch-card rewards, and the occasional masquerade ball.
The Monkey also looks outward. The owners are actively booking collaborations with nearby towns, aiming to build an arts corridor that genuinely connects Raton and Trinidad. As local actor and open mic night host James Cordova explains, “If you establish a growing community of people that are creative that want to come together regularly and very often… to do different types of art—poetry, standup, magic, singing… paintings, sculptures… and to build a cool community of people that grows exponentially… that can bridge between Trinidad and Raton. If you kind of make a pyramid, that would be at the top [of our values]. To do that, we’re going to offer various activities for people who want to commute. Open mic nights, artist showcases, youth contests, receptions… all of it is in the duty of supporting our community.”
That vision may sound ambitious, but it fits exactly what rural corridors need. Art does not sit quietly on the wall. It pulls people downtown after hours, keeps them there longer, and gives kids and elders something to do besides going home. National research shows that arts and culture audiences consistently generate secondary spending that benefits nearby restaurants and retailers, strengthening downtown economies rather than siphoning from them (Americans for the Arts, n.d.).
At the state level, this approach mirrors how New Mexico frames creative-sector growth. The New Mexico Department of Economic Development emphasizes local participation, repeat engagement, and accessible entry points as the backbone of a thriving creative economy—especially in rural communities where cultural infrastructure remains limited (New Mexico Department of Economic Development—Creative Industries Division, 2024). Translation: sustainability comes from showing up often, not from chasing prestige.
Personality matters here as much as product. Co-owner Gary Rife sums up the mission in a single line that doubles as both business plan and marketing slogan: “I want world domination.” That’s the vibe—audacious, slightly ridiculous, and oddly sincere. The owners want to grow “The Monkey Family” into a welcoming, no-gatekeeping crew. Wall-hanging artists, floor-standing sculptors, display-case artisans, weekend vendors, and total beginners all have a place. All levels. All media. The only real requirement is participation.
Opening a new small business in a small town takes nerve. According to the U.S. Bureau of Labor Statistics, only about one-third of private-sector establishments survive a decade (U.S. Bureau of Labor Statistics, 2024). The Monkey’s bet is simple: consistent programming, affordable access, and shared ownership turn a novelty into a fixture.
So come through. Sign up for the open mic. Submit a kid’s drawing. Book a vendor table. Bring a friend who thinks “Dungeons & Dragons” is a pasta shape. Pitch a dance night, a band, or a strange interactive thing you built in your garage. Volunteer to help livestream if you can keep a camera steady. The Monkey wants to be the place people point to when they ask, “Where do weird, good things happen around here?”—and they want that answer to be Raton.
Participation here is not a ribbon or a resume line. It’s an invitation. Bring your best bedazzled hoodie, your worst lullaby, your most aggressively mediocre poems. There is space for reverent painters and jokey sculptors, for senior citizens with delicate watercolor hands and kids who finger-paint with wholesome malice. There is space for kitsch souvenirs that make you laugh, art supplies that last for years, and performance nights that end in mutual embarrassment and new friendships.
So here’s the real question: what would nightlife look like if downtown had a sky-blue building full of artists willing to stay late, sell a weird postcard, teach a kid how to shade properly, and then dance until someone forgets to lock the door? The Meditating Monkey is betting it looks like a small, sticky revolution—one built on showing up, making things together, and refusing to pretend Raton can’t be a place where weird, good things happen after dark. Gary Rife wants world domination. We say: fine—start with the county. Bring your hands, your weird, your art, and your appetite for small miracles. And don’t forget to ask about the cursed painting.
Meditating Monkey Art Emporium 136 N. 1st St., Raton, NM — gallery, shop, upstairs auditorium Contact for vendors, gallerists, volunteers, and performers: 575-707-8865 | meditatingmonkey1984@gmail.com
Great article Niko. I did not participate in this event, but I’m hoping you continue your work. Thank you.