The Desert

From Paul Shepard's Man in the Landscape:

Silence and emptiness convey divine immanence by their lack of prosaic forms. The desert is the environment of revelation, genetically and physiologically alien, sensorily austere, esthetically abstract, historically inimical. It is always described as boundless and empty, but the human experience there is never merely existential. Its solitude is a not-empty void, a not-quiet silence. Its forms are bold and suggestive. The mind is beset by light and space, the kinesthetic novelty of aridity, high temperature, and wind. The desert sky is encircling, majestic, terrible. In other habitats, the rim of sky above the horizontal is broken or obscured; here, together with the overhead portion, it is infinitely vaster than that of rolling countryside and forest lands.

The Western Edge of Albuquerque, NM

Landscape

Here's a snapshot of a recent little (9"x12") drawing. It's a return to some work I was doing in Philadelphia.

It's been awhile since I've spent any time outdoors...since Portland in mid-December. I decided during that trip that I needed more time outdoors, that it was essential for my well-being, though I haven't been great at doing this since then. One thing I remember from Land Arts was how differently things became prioritized. No more 24-hour news, reality TV, traffic, etc. Every day was an adventure and every day was also very basic -- we had to make sure we had enough food and water, and if we didn't, we needed to make plans. Not quite the same, though, as when you need groceries in a city or town and you can just run to the store in 5 minutes. Supplies could be hours away if we didn't plan accordingly. This kind of distance from the hustle and bustle of the world of people was refreshing.

There's so much going on in the world of people that it's easy to miss things that are worth while. Things seem to move fast beyond comprehension, yet time strangely appears never to change. The seasons are myths that don't really affect us. We can get any kind of food we want regardless of the time of year. Exploring your physical surroundings seems odd and senseless when you have a car to go places and so much to do online.

I know that with every change, something is always given up. Our relationship to the natural world is very strange now. I find this compelling. And I believe that part of the reason why I have felt so alienated in my life is because of my alienation from the natural world.

questions and points about my work

1. What does it do to the natural world to interact with it only from
the perspective of morality and progress (capital)? What would nature be
without religion and civilization?

2. Can we act in any other way than in striving, as a species, to be
masters over all? How can we redefine success (mainstream idea of
success) when it doesn't involve the abuse of resources, both human
and environmental? Who gets to determine what's abusive and where it's
acceptable to live?

3. Much of the beauty I see in the natural world stems from its
harshness. The earth provides sustenance, in every way, for survival,
but it poses constant and relentless threats to survival as well. Does
that mean it's our enemy? Do we destroy it because it poses threats to
our existence even though we can't exist without it? We want to create
our own user-friendly world, but how far do we go?

4. The natural world is not moral. It is harsh and unforgiving, but
all life is deeply connected to it. Humans replace natural world with
civilization, which is meant to protect us from the world's savage
dangers.

mckinley and whitney

From their respective websites.