Myth & Moor

Desert Stories, 2: Sonora

(Click on the photo for a larger version. Desert Stories 1 is here, and there are more to come.)

Another desert picture-story in which I've used one of Stu Jenks' gorgeous photographs (with his kind permisson) from the Sonoran desert of southern Arizona.

Desert Stories, 1: Migration

The photograph I've used for this "picture-story" is by my friend Stu Jenks in Tucson, Arizona, reproduced here with his kind permission. Please visit Stu's Fezziwig Press website and blog to see his beautiful, subtly spiritual work. (More information on the photo, "Lone Saguaro on the Arizona Trail," is here.)

The words were written at a time when I was traveling like a migrating bird between homes in Devon and the Arizona desert. These days I'm rooted more strongly here in Devon...but oh, the desert still calls....

More trees. . .

More photos of wall trees in Arizona, this one in the little bunkhouse where I often stay. The tree's branches go around the corner, arching over rustic wooden shelves full of dishes and pottery.

 

The colors I use for the desert wall trees are brighter than the ones I use here in Devon. It suits that gorgeous desert light. The blue door above opens into a charming little Mexican bathroom. Alas, I don't have a picture of that -- but here is the rest of the room:

The door on the left in the photo at the top of this post goes out to a flagstone-tiled porch, with tables and chairs for the outdoor living that is so much a part of desert life. Just beyond the porch, there's a little fire pit for sitting around at night, looking up at those glorious desert stars. The picture below was taken from the Bunkhouse porch early one morning before the sky had turned to its usual deep blue. (Click on the photo to see it in full.) The mountains encircle the land, changing color and mood as the day progresses. A truly beautiful place...and so very different from the deep green hills and hedgerows of Devon.

To the Desert

 

The little video above, from Metron on Vimeo, has made me homesick for Arizona. . . .

The picture below is of my little painting studio out in the desert behind a house I shared with fellow-writer Ellen Steiber about ten years ago.

I used to have this poem written on the wall:

   To the Desert
by Benjamin Alire Sáenz

I came to you one rainless August night.

You taught me how to live without the rain.

You are thirst and thirst is all I know.

You are sand, wind, sun, and burning sky,

The hottest blue. You blow a breeze and brand

Your breath into my mouth. You reach—then bend

Your force, to break, blow, burn, and make me new.

You wrap your name tight around my ribs

And keep me warm. I was born for you.

Above, below, by you, by you surrounded.

I wake to you at dawn. Never break your

Knot. Reach, rise, blow, Sálvame, mi dios,

Trágame, mi tierra. Salva, traga, Break me,

I am bread. I will be the water for your thirst.

Dancing through hoops . . .

I've been out sick the last several days, so posting will be sparse while I catch up on work. In the meantime, I'm pleased to announce that Hoop Dancing, the new book by Tucson photographer Stu Jenks, is now available for pre-order. It'll be out by the end of the month...just in time for Christmas shopping....

Desert magic...

Stu Jenks' new book of collected photographs, Flame Spirals, has just been released. I haven't seen it yet, but I'm a big fan of Stu's art and I'm sure it's a beauty. More information is available on Stu's blog.

Dancing in the desert....

As I sit here in Manhattan on a crisp, clear autumn morning -- waiting for my UK Spouse Visa to come through before I can return to the UK --  this beautiful new picture by my friend Stu Jenks has made me homesick for my other home, the magical Arizona desert. 

Stu calls it "Four Women and a Kit Fox." You can read why on his blog.

This one goes out for my cat Oliver, who died yesterday after sharing two decades of life with me.


Ollie as a kitten, Boston 2008.


Ollie at age 20, Arizona 2008.

Howard serenading Ollie, Arizona 2008.

Go gently, little one.

My friend Stu Jenks has a beautiful exhibition running at the grand old Hotel Congress in Tucson. Here's the info:

Nine Prayers: Photographs of Stu Jenks

The Hotel Congress Lobby
311 E. Congress, Tucson, AZ
July 21st - September 13th, 2008
Artist's Reception: Wednesday, August 20th, 2008, 6 - 8 p.m.

"Beginning July 21st, Stu Jenks will be displaying what he calls 'A small retrospective of large photographs' from the past eleven years. Each of the nine photographs has a personal prayer associated with it, be it the hopeful 'I pray we have a good Christmas' to the humorous 'I pray that bull doesn't get mad at me, once he finds out I don't have any food.'

"Most of the images are printed using the revolutionary Roland D'Vinci pigment printer, which give amazingly deep blacks and brillantly vibrant colors. Jenks' work ranges from mysterious nocturnal images of twinkling hoops and flaming spirals in desert and forested locales, to action photographs of Tucson Roller Derby women and of the circus troupe Flam Chen. The show is curated by David Aguirre of Dinnerware Artspace in Tucson."

Visit Stu's blog to see m
ore examples of the art that is currently on display in one of my very favorite hang-outs in Tucson.

The poem excerpt is from "Bobcat" by Elsinore Smith (age 13), from River of Words: The Natural World as Viewed by Young People, 2003 edition. Read the full poem here.

River of Words is a wonderful project, truly deserving of our support. You can read more about it, and view the winning poems and art in the 2008 edition, here.  There are also links to the Finalist poems for each year, and these are fantatic too.

There was good spring rain in the desert this year, so everything is looking fresh and green...and the rabbit population has exploded.

My bedroom here in Tucson is in a former horse barn, surrounded by mountains, cacti, and wildlife. In the morning, the desert beyond my porch is hoppin' with white-tailed desert bunnies, ignoring me and going about their business as I drink my morning coffee. . . .

"Rabbit Maiden,"  from a desert sketchbook

      

I've just traveled from Dartmoor back to the Arizona desert...from deep green hills to dusty blue mountains...from sheep in the fields to coyotes in the wash. My eyes are still adjusting to a subtler color palette; my body is adjusting to the time zone change; and I have to keep reminding myself which side of the road to drive on in my battered old pick-up truck.

Here's a drawing of a shy desert spirit, related to the mule-eared deer who delicately pick their way through a prickly terrain of cactus, creos0te, and scrub.  She's a melancholy soul -- probably because I'm missing someone who is an ocean away.