A preference for red cliffs over white mountains during winter seems to have me dragging out the final postings of our recent rojo sojourn. Let's go ahead and put that trip to bed so we can get on with life in the Now. Our final stopover was in Moab—always a pleasant, sleepy little town in February, especially Monday through Friday. We snagged a motel room for 34 bucks. A month from now you will be lucky to find one for less than a hundred.
Thursday, February 27, 2014
Tuesday, February 25, 2014
Backtracking to red rock country around Sedona now, I wasn't exactly thrilled about departing seventy-some degrees and sunshine—trading shorts for long pants, t-shirt for jacket, and warm sumptuous shades of red for icebox white. The weather widgets called for the abnormally warm multi-state dome of high pressure to hold indefinitely, so I hatched a plan to take the long way back to Colorado, one that would, metaphorically speaking, kill two birds with one stone and keep us abiding in glorious climate with postcards.
Friday, February 21, 2014
Watercolor sketching is a great stretching exercise. The point of sketching is to capture the essential feeling of a scene as quickly as possible without regard to detail…as opposed to rendering a photographic representation. As mentioned previously, the soul of a painting—the "Art"—is often inversely proportional to detail, accuracy, realism…and, to some extent, time spent.
Wednesday, February 19, 2014
We have landed back in Lovely Ouray, and on our heels comes another storm. March is our snowiest month, and thankfully, it is upon us. I guess it was pretty nice weather while we were gone; the driveway is melted of snow and ice and the surround of south facing red cliffs are showing their colorful "undies." It was a marvelous getaway, though, warm and sunny…a pleasant distraction to woes and cabin fever.
Saturday, February 15, 2014
A couple of days after writing the previous cabin-fevered post, "Winds of Change and Challenge," I read a reassuring passage—as in, Maybe I'm not going crazy after all. It comes from the book, "Fresh Air Fiend," by travel writer Paul Theroux, a gift from a fellow blogger/writer that I've come to know via the BCB and email correspondence who thought my writing style similar to Theroux. Half way through the book's contents, I believe Theroux—and possibly all writers—to be kindred in spirit, a brooding, solitary lot who sees the world and its over populated masses as "material." The passage reads...
Sunday, February 9, 2014
In surreal and fleeting moments of gun-to-my-head honesty, I have often wondered if my unrelenting Wanderlust somehow conspires with seductive Back Roads and Boondocks to form a subconscious avoidance mechanism (excuses) that keeps me so preoccupied with what I'd rather be doing that I can't seem to get around to what I should be doing. Chew on that and let me know if you have similar weaknesses…
Wednesday, February 5, 2014
Isn't the ocotillo bloom amazing? It's hard to imagine something so delicate and beautiful popping out of the end of a thorny, misshapen, dehydrated "stick" in the desert. Against an Arizona Highways blue sky it really pops and makes me wish I was there.
Tuesday, February 4, 2014
Post-storm Lovely Ouray is awash in a fresh coating of white. I love the way a blanket of new snow covers mud, dog shit, and some of my winter doldrums. The sun was shining and snow was glistening; it lured us outdoors for a walkabout around our Victorian Village. But first, a new winter scene watercolor of Courthouse and Chimney Rock.
Sunday, February 2, 2014
Wonder Dog Aspen struck a snow-pose on a recent walkabout. Aspen's Master, Tamara (Bobbie's hiking buddy and summertime employer) was surprised she held the pose long enough to allow me to fetch my camera from its pouch. Good girl, Aspen. More on that hike later. Let's start with a "Rails to Trail" stroll along the Uncompaghre Riverway path.