It's so hard to explain how Carson draws me.
Even explaining it to myself is difficult. A place of simplicity for me, of vastness and survival. It doesn't frighten me, as Frost suggests. I am full of serenity when I am there, saturated by the scent of the sage; reveling in the brilliant light which illuminates the desert's excruciating demands, exquisite details and challenges. I'm challenged to look inward, and to be completely present in the moment.
It's a huge relief.
So much simpler than real life.
Me estira mi querencia… a phrase I learned in Paraguay. I am drawn, stretched and elongated in spirit towards that which I love… These vistas emerge in my art here in New England, 1500 miles away, 38 years after living there.
In this photo, taken in March I am painting in my front patio there... if that's what one can call a circle of eroded walls sprouting overgrown sage, russian thistle and grama grass.
The painting was not much, but it is the first I've done there in ever so long.