"Whether you succeed or not is irrelevant, there is no such thing. Making your unknown known is the important thing—keeping the unknown always beyond." Georgia O'keeffe
Somewhere in the sun beaten, God forsaken, barren Land of Disenchantment: This is what comes of last-second whims—a sudden brainstorm to throw a stick in the spokes of routine.
Reflect, if you will, on all of all your lefts instead of rights, ups instead of downs, Yeses instead of No's… or better yet, cowardly No's instead of Yeses. Life is a game of darts, bullseye's far and few between. For better or worse, the wonderful/tragic thing about this philosophical meander is that past choices are the building blocks of here and now. Wave a magic wand and change just one left to a right, one No to Yes or Yes to No, and it could well have set your life on an entirely different trajectory. Yep, it's as arbitrary as that. And to think, we made a good portion of what seemed inconsequential—if not whimsical—choices under the influence of youth, drugs, and alcohol. Miracles do happen.
Bobbie and I engaged a whim—traded the usual ruin and cliff dwelling escapades in southeast Utah for the unknown funk, rust, and degradation of New Mexico. There, under its hallmark calling cards of glaring sun and incessant wind, motoring along harrowingly narrow slivers of asphalt in the process of being reclaimed by chico brush and sage, a sobering landscape unveiled—an unyielding sea of stunted, buttes, bluffs, and desiccated vegetation that couldn't decently shade a rattlesnake.
Eastern born and raised, Georgia Okeefe found grace and inspiration amongst the aridity and sterility of the this highland desert. Indeed, it's the kind of place only artists and archeologists could love. A mere stone's throw from sky island mountains can land one in an ocean of nothingness. But New Mexico is like the high school gal with a good personality; if one looks beyond the superficial, they might just fall in love.
I try for the sake of a rare success—laugh, cry, paint, for the sake of expression. Because if I express, I exist. Otherwise, I have nothing much to show for my life.