Last minute hoo-ha, no insights

In less than 24hrs, I will be leaving the Grand Canyon after my 3 week residency. The sky is clouded over, for the first time since I've been here. What had been shocking, vibrant blue is now lowering and grey. It is still warm- in the 60's and will be tomorrow too. When I was emailing back and forth with the person in charge of the program she had said that some years they spent Thanksgiving in shorts & tee shirts, other times in full polar gear. There was no predicting what the weather would be, so I packed everything. It ended up that 3/4 of what I packed, I never needed. If I didn't have to drag my suitcase up and down all those flights of stairs, it wouldn't be an issue. Ah well.
Today, I spent my morning at the laundromat. I was surprised that there was anyone else there, but there are many tourists here for whom today has absolutely no cultural resonance, so why not get your clothes clean? Then I went for a hike. I took the shuttle out to the visitor's center/Mather's Point and then walked back to the Ranger Hqtrs to drop something off for my supervisor. I had burned out the tea kettle in the apartment and dropped off the funds to replace it.
The area around the visitor's center was full of people so it was good to get away from that area and just walk and enjoy the majesty of the landscape for one last time. Too many people taking endless selfies. Too many people talking about anything but the Canyon on their cell-phones. Too many whinging children. There is always somewhere to go hike or walk in the Park for an introvert like me- trails that are too far or not paved, away from the main overlooks and points. And since I am an acrophobic introvert to boot, there are enough of these quiet trails on the plateau. But I must say that the constant exposure to these potential plummets has lessened my acrophobia. Still not going to go stand out on the edge but I am not constantly getting the whim-whams anymore.
I had my Thanksgiving meal at the fanciest of the restaurants in the Canyon, some butternut squash soup and eggplant parmesan over polenta. I got a nice seat by a window. and pulled out my kindle to keep me company… but I had forgotten my glasses. I increased the font size drastically- maybe 20 words on the screen- and was able to read with just a little squinting.
Now I am back at the apartment and starting to pack up in earnest. What can I take down to the car? What won't I need tonight? Will I want to do some work? I just don't know. I wrote my Thanksgiving gratitude list yesterday, perhaps I will just meditate on that for a while- after all, I have time.

Better Late

How do you know when something is not working?
How do you know when it has righted itself?
I have a limited time here at the Grand Canyon. My residency is only 3 weeks and almost 2 weeks in I was struggling. I could not get a grip on the immensity that is the Canyon, the depth of time, the depth of the history of this place. I felt sure my puny mind was not equal to the task. I had produced two pieces that left me very unhappy. They were appreciated by those that saw them but to me, they were half-assed, trite efforts. Why had I thought I was up to the challenges?
Then, when I thought that I had made a shambles of my residency, and would have to return home with nothing but some failed pieces as a record of my squandered opportunity; a spark formed somewhere in my mind and slowly forced its way to awareness- an image was appearing of a piece using the starkly beautiful, powerfully geometric black and white patterns of native pottery I had seen at the Museum of Northern Arizona.
It also brought to mind the many fantastically contorted trees that dot the plateau. All in shades of grey, shadow and texture, line and volume.
I cannot deal with the rich reds and ochers, the saturated blue of the sky, the multicolored record of the eons of erosion and deposition as the Colorado River and the winds carved their way down to sea level. Too much color, too much confusion, and also too much of a trope- available printed on a multitude of items in the many gift shops here in the Park. Black, white and grey with hints of underpainted color would be my palette for these new pieces.
So that is what I have done, am doing. The smaller piece was completed quickly and without internal struggle- it created flow. Blessed flow. Creative crack for artists. I finally have done something true to myself and my mission here. Another, more complex piece- inspired by the tree forms- is nearing completion. My world has righted itself and now I feel the press of time. I have to pack up on Thursday, as I give thanks for the abundance in my life. I leave Friday morning early to begin the 4-day drive home. I will while away some of those highway hours sketching in my mind the works I hope to achieve over the winter in my studio.
Do I wish I had reached this place earlier in my time here? Yes, Of course I do. But that isn't the way it happened and I am just very grateful- and relieved- that it happened at all.

The View

I have been taking lots of photographs but have not had the time or patience to go through them, adjust for size, etc and then post them. But here is one:

This is the view from one of the windows here at the South Rim. I have a little balcony- actually part of the roof but it is flat, accessible through a large door, and walkable- just off the sitting area of the AiR apartment.

Here is the only montage I have put together so far:

South Rim, near the Bright Angel Trailhead.

I will post my photos after I have returned to NY and have had a chance to go through them- I promise.

Week II

Our story continues.
Sunday was a day in Flagstaff, a very pleasant small city a little over an hour south of the Park. I had a number of errands to run- which I did. One of them included a stop at a craft store to buy some feathers. What? haven't I found lots of feathers lying around the Park for me to incorporate into my work? No, I haven't and if I did I couldn't use them anyway as per Park rules. I assume any feathers that are molted (too late for that) or shed in any other way are either blown away- it is always windy here- or they are gathered by other wildlife. It is a hardscrabble life for both plants and animals- any source of additional warmth, protein or fat will be quickly found and used. So, I am using dyed chicken feathers to stand in for crow/raven, etc. Such is life.
I went to the Museum of Northern Arizona and thoroughly enjoyed their exhibits of both Geology and Ethnography. I saw a lot of glorious, ancient black & white pottery- designs that will show up in later works of mine. I am puzzled by the notion that every design painted on a pot has to have some deep, complex, spiritual meaning. Why is it somehow derogatory that a craftsperson might have created a design that he/she just took delight in making? It was done just to be pretty. Or different than all those designs the other potters were making. It also stereotypes the makers as some sort of perpetual holy people who just happen to have clay on their hands. Living in this area had to be tough, sometimes you just need a little beauty to soften the edges a bit.
I drove back from Flagstaff in the dark, made myself some supper and settled in for the night.
Monday was one of those days when nothing gets done easily or smoothly. Not a day for the record books. Ah well.
Yesterday, I got a good walk in the late morning. From the South Kaibab Trailhead to the Visitor's Center, where I got the shuttle back to the Village. I had thought I might try part of the South Kaibab Trail but once I got there I realized I wasn't up for it, so I walked the Rim Trail. I like the combination of the intimate landscape of the rim on one side and the jaw-dropping and precipitous grandeur of the canyon on the other. And it is easier on my wonky hip. A part of the landscape I walked through showed signs of recent fire and sure enough, it was the result of a proscribed burn in 2004 that went wrong due to a unforeseen windstorm that blew up out of nothing in seconds and swept the blaze over a huge area stopped only by the rim itself. The landscape is much more open and dominated by forbs- the wildlife have benefited by this. As they say, it is an ill wind that blows no one some good. (Wags may insert pun about oboes here.)
I came back to the apartment and got some work done in the studio. I have been documenting my process while I worked on this piece. I am giving a talk about my work on Thursday evening and this will be part of it. Here is the finished piece.

Last evening I went to hear a talk about the animal/plant relationships in the park. It was enjoyable in and of itself and I got to see where I will be speaking on Thursday.
Today some friends from Poland Seminary High School via Sedona will come up for the afternoon. I am tidying up the apartment, working on my talk, and catching up on some correspondence and research.

Getting the Rust Out

I am coming back to my blog in preparation for a grand adventure this November. I am going to be spending three weeks at the Grand Canyon (yeah, that Grand Canyon) as Artist-In-Residence. The focus of my work will be the creation stories of some of the local peoples.
I will be posting as things go along, especially once I hit the road and once I am there.

Speaking of rust, here is a new piece from the series, "Portals," small discarded drawers, wooden boxes, etc that open to other places.