I often go for wanders to get the creative juices flowing. I’ll pack food, water, sunscreen, hat, coffee or tea, a sketchbook, watercolors, and a book to read, and photograph scenes that strike me.
Last Sunday I visited another artist and friend Tony Saverese, who is currently Artist in the the Parks for Arches, Canyonlands, Hovenweep, and Natural Bridges. We enjoyed yucking it up, I sketched a little bit while he recreated Balanced Rock in pastel, and then I wandered off on my own down the pathways..
Usually gazing upwards, obsessed with sky, I find myself instead drawn to the micro growths occuring in our radiant Spring - Southwest Utah has record moisture this season to nurture a more lush and green desert, so our wildflowers are the best we’ve had in years. The weather has been nice and warm, perfect for the first outdoor dreaming of the season, and I notice a shaded area that’s nestled against a wall of slickrock.
Jim Harrison’s latest collection of poems is what I pull out of my bag first, a brawny, knarled tree on the cover, much like the man himself. I love Harrison, but he is not for the faint of heart; death or violence often occur in the same breath that contains birth and the gentlest verse. Somehow reading his poetry awakens me immediately to the urgency of life, the broad span of my lifeline, the delicate balance of nature. He was a visceral writer, sweat and sinew in his prose, and his love of wild places, animals and people that filled him with story.
Sitting against the rock, tucked into the earth, I inhale deeply to fill my lungs with sagebrush. It’s quiet except for the murmuring of hikers far off in the distance, and every now and then a plane overhead. For those of us that live in these wild places, there’s much to think about regarding promoting of these areas for the populace. I savor the energy of the stillness, letting it fill my whole being. Before I paint, I absorb these feelings… the desert has a magic that you must get quiet enough to receive.