This mysterious land of enchantment—the American Southwest—is a siren song seducing many an explorer, writer, poet, artist and even those seeking healing of the metaphysical kind. It’s an indescribable
Palatki Ruins, Arizona
Back in 1884, a young newspaperman referred to as a bourgeois Yankee in
Death Valley National Park
The American Southwest has inspired the artistic visionaries and those gifted with the written word. Spend time here and the passages of Mary Austin, Aldo Leopold, Wallace Stegner, Bernard DeVoto and of course Edward Abbey will resonate deeply. Their words don't only come alive but seemingly whisper in those quiet places in the barely audible whistles of the canyon winds. In the rambling undertones of a river after dark and in the songs of the canyon wren, I hear their stories.
Eastern Sierra Nevada
There was not a time out in the desert or canyons that I haven't thought of Edward Abbey's words since reading “Desert Solitaire”.
Abbey stands out, his intelligence-driven prose draws you in and his writing style is rhythmic, alluring and uplifting. Just when you're maintaining your reader’s high, he pulls you right back down to earth with his irreverent musings and his contemptuous warnings about the perils of industrialized tourism, where we may be headed in the future. Sober up. He writes in such a way that his love and reverence for the Utah landscape becomes a tactile and passionate love letter. In the context of his words you begin to smell the desert flora and your ears will pick up the harmonic desert sounds. Within his words, time will lose context and the desert will seemingly appear right in front of you. I read the very last passages of “Desert Solitaire” while camping in Death Valley National Park. As I turned off my Coleman, I drifted off to the coyotes moonlit melodies and Abbey's sentiments swirling around in my head.
Eastern Sierra Nevada
Too numerous to even begin to mention are those artists whose visual interpretations have mesmerized and sanctified this region. However, Georgie Okeeffe, Merrill Mahaffey, R.C. Gorman, Ed Mell and Howard Russell Butler are a few of my personal favorites.
While I'm particularly fond of the National Parks, I'm even fonder of avoiding the masses of tourists. Through trial and error, I’ve found ways to work around this issue and I've encountered some profound alone time in most beautiful vistas, canyons and even the more remote lesser known treasures of the Southwest. No icon-shame here, as though it's some form of a lesser photographic endeavor. To reduce some of the world’s most beautiful regions or vistas as not worthy simply because others have aimed their cameras in the same direction is cheating yourself not only as an observer of substantial beauty, but most certainly as a photographer and artist. The Grand Canyon's static viewpoints are highly photographed and hugely iconic, but no two storms are ever the same and lightning never strikes twice in the same place (so I’m told). Every once in
While I'd love to explore the entire world through the lens of my camera I'm not at all disheartened with my current more desert bound self. Au contraire,
My road trips are fueled by curiosity and the sensibilities of an incurable romantic. A wanderlust in search of beautiful light, dynamic weather and ancient tales. I tend to love the classic vistas, the images that depict a sense of timeless Americana.
I've fallen in love with these landscapes, falling through time and space and dusty legends. Followed by the stars of ancient skies one can get lost in the mystique and allure and everything in between while out romancing the American Southwest.