Not Afraid of the Dark

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Honestly, I can hardly believe this photograph turned out so well.  It is magic.  Rob and I had been hunting all day and when we arrived back at camp, I looked out at the moonrise and the delicate palate of the sunset in the sky and I had a vision.   I set up my camera and remote and literally galloped out across the sand dunes to get this photograph.

The moon.  My friend.  I have no reason to fear the dark.

We have been in New Mexico for nearly two weeks, hunting quail and being a family and camping and living rough and working our beautiful, steadfast dogs in incredible country.  It is the joy of my heart to be here.  The joy of my heart.  I think it’s because it is the joy of my heart, truly, that I was able to make a photograph like this (and many more that I look forward to sharing with you).  I believe in creating from the light, from joy, from emotions that are rooted in beauty.  It is from those places I experience a true welling up of originality.

More soon.

X

PS

I just had a hot shower for the first time in nine days and it was SUBLIME.

Storm Chaser

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IMG_5244 IMG_5261IMG_5319IMG_5332 IMG_5329IMG_5334 IMG_5339 IMG_5345IMG_5364IMG_5370M and I had just finished a dinner of tacos, salad and a pair of crazy delicious cocktails and were walking around Taos in the night when it began to storm.  I stopped where I was, whipped out my camera and began to try catch the eerie light of the clouds flickering with lightning.  Between shots I heard myself oohing and aching and finally I said to M, “Let’s chase it!

We hopped in the car, drove towards the storm and wound up somewhere outside of Taos.  I set up my tripod and camera and got to work figuring out my focal point, shutter speed, aperture…  The wind came up.  It began to rain.  And still we stayed out there trying to set up a photograph.

I usually try not to post images that are too similar, I try to be a good editor that way, but I decided to put up a smattering of similar shots in this post so you can see how crazy different the light was depending on where my shutter was able to catch a lightning strike — the luminance is so different in each image here, as well as the colors!  That incredible violet hue in some of these shots is not something I pulled out during editing processes!  Unreal, right?

I love these photos and this was probably my favorite photographic pursuit on this entire trip.  At some point, the rain turned to hail and I had to fold everything up quick and run for the car.  We sat there in the dark, listening to the ice pummel the rag top of the convertible, wondering if we would survive or be tornado-ed off to another dimension.  It was great; an evening that won’t be forgotten.

With that said, my New Mexico posts are officially finished!  Thanks for coming along for the ride!

X

 

 

The Beauty Is In The Details — Santa Fe to Taos and Home Again

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As a general rule, cities cause me discomfort.  I prefer the country, open horizon lines, clean air and antelope herds.  I have, in days past, experienced feelings of culture shock while traveling into and out of cities from rather rural homes.  Driving into Anchorage, Alaska for provisions from Copper Center used to terrify me.  Buzzing over to Los Angeles from the tiny river town of Parker, Arizona made my head hurt.  Even now, going to Boise or Salt Lake City is enough to exhaust me on such a deep level that I usually need a day of recovery once I return home.

Cities tend to leave me feeling tired, hyper-stimulated and bewildered.  Please believe me when I say I am not anti-city.  I think cities can be wonderful places and have explored many with great pleasure, however, I find they sap my strength, tax my mind and weary my senses.  With that said, cities are not usually my focus when I travel.  Usually my trips involve being outside, hugging trees, catching fish, rowing my raft and riding horses.  So, when I travel with M, it’s refreshing to be with someone who is tremendously comfortable in urban places, someone who can safely expose me to experiences I rarely choose to expose myself to.  Does that make sense?

She took care of a lot of the driving on this trip, especially when we were in cities, which really helped me to stay sane.  Filtering large loads of information at high speeds is not one of my mental talents.  If my eyes see something lovely, I focus on it.  I refrain from multi-tasking in life and my senses and mind seem to be wired in a similar manner.  I take in delicious pieces of the world around me and really focus on every single bite as it passes through my system in full chroma, full texture, full scent, full feel…full fullness.  It’s how I operate.  Having M by my side keeps me within my filtration comfort zone, she’s sort of my seeing eye dog in big cities.  She is a solid thing I can trust to lead me on when I fall victim to my senses or am struggling with complete overload.  I realize this makes me sound fragile, and I suppose I am, in some ways.

What to say about Santa Fe — it’s a beautiful old town.  There is so much art!  There is so much jewelry (I grew desensitized to the beauty of it, actually…)!  There is so much strolling to do, drinks to sip, tacos to munch, turquoise to buy.  It’s a great city.

Taos is more my style.  It’s small, charming, quiet(er) and set against a lovely high desert backdrop of rolling mountains and blue sky.  I’d like to do a writing workshop there sometime and am keeping an eye out for opportunities.

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  The last couple of days of our trip found us storm chasing (more on that in a moment), gallery hopping in Madrid, bracing against gale force winds in a high and winsome desert on sandstone cliffs, beneath gaping arches, in piney forests, under stormy clouds, in the grips of burning sunsets and so on and so forth until the highway spilled us back down into Arizona where the skies are impossibly blue and I caught my flight home to Idaho.  Frankly, it was the best time I ever had in a white Miata.

Love you M.  Let’s do it all over again, sometime soon.

 

The Beauty Is In The Details — Las Cruces to Albuquerque

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IMG_5004 IMG_5014 IMG_5022 IMG_5028 IMG_5040 IMG_5046IMG_5056 IMG_5058Today, someone asked me if New Mexico is beautiful.  Of course it is beautiful but I’m not the person to ask because, really, when it comes down to it, I find everywhere to be beautiful.  Here’s what I have to specifically say about New Mexico.  I live in the high desert of Idaho so the feel of the landscape in New Mexico didn’t thrill my senses — which is to say the terrain there did not move me too far out of the geographical parameters of my ordinary life.  That said, there is magic in New Mexico and I believe it stems from the fact that the state has really held on to a deeply reverberating Mexican/American Indian vibe that splatters the world there with color, texture and SPIRIT!  New Mexico has spirit.  Bombastic spirit.  I felt it the moment I saw my first strand of chile peppers hanging from a doorway on an adobe.  Wowee!  Everything feels a little older, a little more sunbaked, a little more crusty around the edges.  The place has patina and I adore patina.  Truly.  The beauty of New Mexico is in the sun burned, wind kissed, quirky details.

I realize that I haven’t told you what the heck I was doing down in New Mexico in the middle of the summer!   Allow me to share the background of this trip.  I travel, from time to time, with one of my best friends who is from Arizona.  In January we began to talk, in earnest, about taking another trip together this year (we’ve done trips together in the past including Northern Ireland, Czech Republic, Hungary, and the Idaho Sawtooths by ’73 Volkswagan Bus).  We pondered on New Orleans, San Francisco and then decided we needed to go somewhere neither of us had ever experienced and our plans for New Mexico began to grow themselves into fruition.  May rolled around and I found I had a plane ticket to Phoenix and M had booked time off.  The rest is history.

M is a talented photographer which just makes traveling together even better.  We walk around with our enormous cameras, take thousands of pictures, share our shooting secrets with each other, and laugh a lot.  I’m always amazed at how different our photography styles are.  Even if we are shooting the same landscape or retro neon sign, things turn out so differently.  We both tend to simply do exactly what we do.  I have always appreciated her eye for what it is, but also love it when I get to compare my perspective directly to hers.  If you’d like to take a peek at her work from our New Mexico adventure, you can find her blog posts here.

Have you ever traveled with a best girlfriend?

It’s the best.

Also, we hiked 800ft underground into the Carlsbad Caverns, into that incredible, terrifying, beautiful, nightmarish place.  I was practically hypothermic when we came back up to the surface, so clammy and drippy and cold was it down there.  Just ask M.  I had “white finger” on my right hand — which is what I call it when my fingers turn white and generally quit functioning, not a big deal, it happens sporadically; I get deeply cold quite easily.  Robert dreads it.

Back to the caves.  I kept expecting a gollum to pop up out of the pools of water beneath the various speleothems we encountered (that’s a fancy word for rock formations found in caverns and caves…good one, huh?).  It was quite the experience, not like anything I have ever seen before on the skin of our beautiful, wild Earth.  I would highly recommend a visit if you are in the neighborhood.  It’s a completely spectacular experience and while there are lights placed around the caves to slightly illuminate the hiking path as well as the ENORMOUS columns, stalagmite and stalactites, I cannot fathom that once upon a time, crews of men and women went under the earth with only headlamps and ropes to explore this phenomenal, dark territory.  I just can’t believe it.

My photographs don’t do the caves justice.  They are a million times more gorgeous and frightening than I could capture in pictures.  The scale, too, is lost in these shots.  I really cannot explain to you the monumental size of these rock formations.  There were delicate formations, as well, but the big ones were el mondo.

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To be continued…

Surviving White Sands

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Anything that lives where it would seem that nothing could live, enduring extremes of heat and cold, sunlight and storm, parching aridity and sudden cloudbursts, among burnt rocks and shifting sands, any such creature, beast, bird, or flower, testifies to the grandeur and heroism inherent in all forms of life.  Including the human.  Even in us.

[Edward Abbey]

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I find the desert beautiful.  It can be dismal, boiling, stinging, biting, terrifying and  blinding.  It can also be lush, gentle, sweet, fragrant and otherworldly.  I would know, I lived in the low desert of Arizona for almost four full years and grew acquainted with the nature of the land there to a great degree.  I love it and I hate it.

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White Sands is spectacular, a literal sea of white on this windy day wherein the sky meets the earth in a tempered blaze.  My eyes hurt to look out at it.  It’s like being in a 105F degree snowstorm.  At the end of the day I will have tiny signs of snow blindness, M, too, will actually lay on her hotel bed with a wet facecloth across her eyes.  Where is this place?  Where have we come?  What is it?  Snow or sand, sun or ice?  The very light of the place confuses the senses.

The sand is deep, mystical, pure white.  By the time I climb in the car for departure, the fineness of the stuff is clinging to every inch of my skin.  It’s in my underwear, my armpits, my eyelids.  I’m pregnant with it, carrying a million minute grains, mother to a miniature desert creeping across my skin in moon shaped dunes.

Oh God!  What is this place?  Creation is too great to fathom at times.  I want to blend in, creep across the shifting particles in jerky steps, like the purple lizard I watched take shade beneath the yucca.  Was it really purple?  I cannot tell the colors here for all the holy light.

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I begin to think about survival.  I begin to think about the hero in myself, not just here in the desert, but in life.  That small portion of my being that is capable of arriving in the nick of time, broad of heart, self-sacrificing in times of need, jovial, caring, important…where is the hero in me and how do I tend to it?

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Do not let the hero in your soul perish in lonely frustration, for the life you deserved but never have been able to reach.  Check your road and the nature of your battle.  The world you desired can be won.  It exists, it is real, it is possible, it is yours.

[Ayn Rand:: Atlas Shrugged]