We are in Holbrook, Arizona. No art will be displayed in this post. No art has been produced for this post, nor for any other in recent days, although we’ve passed through seriously artistic scenery. Which might be the problem, along with the problem of just driving and driving and driving and eating road food and sleeping in strange beds and visiting national parks which were terrifyingly full of other people visiting them.
All that said, we took a quick gander at the southern edge of the Park this evening (the gate was closed, so we couldn’t get in). Now I’m petrified.
All was horizontal. All was blank blue sky. All was without focus. A gorgeous sunset lasted 2 minutes. In short, painting in this landscape could turn out to be a real challenge.
[Actually after I took this photo, I decided the running fence and distant glow was beautifully paintable, except that the glow disappeared in about 3 seconds. The fence will remain and perhaps I will go back on site an hour earlier and actually finish painting the glow, just before it disappears. Note added Monday Sept 27].
I assume, however, that there will be colorful rocks. And the place is located inside the Painted Desert, which must mean something. But for a Saturday evening’s mediation on what Sunday will bring, this evening’s drive was a bit unsettling.
Challenges will appear. Life will go on. Paintings will be made. Two weeks will pass quickly. No one will ever need to see what I’ve splattered on the canvases during this time. Perhaps I’ll find something in Portland that I can pass off to the Park as a painting I did in response to their generosity.
Panic time, anyone?
Reporting from the Arizonian Motel, on the far outskirts of Holbrook, AZ, just off I-40, in northeastern Arizona, where it’s flat.
juneunderwood.com 
7 responses to “Petrified Forest Residency: About to Begin”
Just paint color~
Looking forward to your paintings,
Lee
June, I know that there will be form and texture and color, and you will find it and make wonderful art! Be sure to say hello to the interp folks and the museum guy from me!
I was once at a lecture given by the basket maker Maggie Henton who had just returned from a residency in Australia. She had been looking forward to it as a great source of input, but on arrival was overwhelmed by the vast expanse of flat land where she was and felt lost. She hung her head. And there it was: inspiration! The ground. And it changed her work.
Panic not. Wait for it to speak to you. Enjoy the experience whatever it brings.
Horizontal can be really beautiful, really soothing. You’ll make it sing!
So glad you’re on another residency so I can follow along! I’ve thought about doing that one too so will be interested to see how your’s goes.
Often when I arrive at a residency the aftermath of the hassle of travel along with being hit in the face with the raw landscape is disconcerting. And for the short residencies it feels like the minute you arrive the clock starts ticking. I think if you weren’t panicked wouldn’t be fully feeling it. So it’s a good sign, discovery and growth lay ahead!
Hey! I was so glad to find your blog, I’ll be doing the residency in November and was curious as to what it would be like. Anyways, I’ll start here at the first post and read on. Thanks for posting this!
Hi Charlene,
Bring warm clothes — it’s starting to get cold here, particularly in the mornings. Beautiful weather, just chilly. And bound to get chillier. We’re reading all of Tony Hillerman — that should give you some idea of what it can be like — although we haven’t found a murderer yet.
We’ll be here until Sunday morning (the 17th of October) and then off to Monument Valley. We’ll be there about a week and then back to Portland Oregon, by whatever route seems like it might work. Usually we’re running ahead of a snow storm, but maybe not this time.
Let me know if you will be blogging about your residency.