Desert Stories

Evening light | Taos | Photo by L Doctor

Our class at Ghost Ranch was inspired by the splendor of the land, and the sense of being away, away, away. The quiet of the desert and the expanse of the horizon in every direction, and the intuitive inner imagery stimulated by working with Barbara Griek, the Tarot, writing and painting. I fall short, every time, of conveying what the students bring…to each other and to me. I fall short of conveying the depth of experience felt in the classroom, and all that goes into the making of their journals:

One of the students at Ghost Ranch suggested photographing all the books together, from the spine (above).

Watching the landscape, seeing change of value and distance | Hollis Sutherland

Below are just a few examples of book pages:

(Left to right, top to bottom) Valery Kelly, Elizabeth Bock, Stephanie Danforth & Trudy Ray

The Hermit | Jan Black

Cases for books: (Left to right, top to bottom): Chandesh Adams, Staci Page Oien, Barbara Courtney and Summer Rodman

I went from Ghost Ranch to Taos, where I had the privilege of teaching with Paul Maurer and Nancy Culmone.

Coyote fence (left), outside the kitchen at Mabel’s (right) | Photos by KathrynVan Aernum

Paul brought two table-top presses so that we could experiment with printing and embossing. Below are just a few examples of printing:

(Left to right) Sona Nast, Kristen Arrivee, KathrynVan Aernum and Lisa Mersky

Nancy Culmone brought her beautiful, hand lettered and painted book on The Raven. I am sorry not to have any photos of this work, but she had us all spellbound telling the story of taking her daily walk in the remote New Mexico landscape, when a raven flew toward her, catching the sun on its wing, and causing her to be momentarily blinded. This transforming experience was the incentive for her book.

Images from Taos | Photos by KathrynVan Aernum

Nancy was transfigured by her encounter with the Raven, and what follows is what she read to us from her book:

Look, the Raven
is becoming a
window of light
floating over drifting
snow reflecting sun.
Now her wings flare.
Where am I?
No horizon, no
sky, no snow,
only light.
Now, the silent
white shouldered
world snaps back
into place,
and the bright
portal is a Raven.
How easily
she lets go.
Teach me
to speak
this language.
Help me to offer
similar ricochets,
so I too open,
catching light just-so.
I would send it
with the same
thoughtless ease
so you naturally
take it in.

— Nancy Culmone

And that is what happened; we all sat enchanted as Nancy caught the light just-so, and with thoughtless ease offered us ricochets of grace from the Raven and the purity of her transparent open heart.

What I am discovering is that getting back out into the world is a refreshing, enlivening, and at moments, electrifying balance to my impulse to remain in isolation. What has happened to you in this early spring to wake up your appreciation for this world? I’d love to hear from you.