The Unbroken Wild West Still Invites Exploration and Adventure

I grew up in what is sometimes called “The Wild West.” We went camping and traveling throughout Colorado, Utah, Arizona, New Mexico, Nevada, Idaho, Wyoming, Montana, Washington and Oregon. Parts of the West are still as they were when Lewis and Clark and the early pioneers traveled for the first time over this rugged terrain.

In our travels, one of my favorite places was Taos / Pueblo, New Mexico. I still have a turquoise necklace I purchased from a Native American artist for $50. I fell in love with the artist community and the prolific galleries that dotted the streets. My dream was to return to live and work there. But you know how that goes.

According to a travel guide: “Taos is art. Art is everywhere: on the walls, in the streets, in the landscape and architecture. There are more than 80 galleries, museums, two major art festivals, several film fests, a Poets and Story Tellers festival, and four music fests.”

The grandeur of the mountains invites tourists and artists in summer and fall, and skiers in winter. The history of Taos is replete with Native American lore, an actual Pueblo village, and details about famous artists such as Georgia O’Keefe, Ansel Adams, D.H. Lawrence, John Marin, Andrew Dasburg and many others.

The broad sweep of rugged hills and jagged mountains provides year round recreation that has increased both the size and scope of Taos along with a rise in the cost of living. But a visit is well worth the experience.

When the word “wild” comes to your mind what does your imagination conjure up? The word itself makes me think “feral, uncontrollable;” not a good thing if you’re trying to harness your skill to describe in words or artwork what you see. 

Writers and artists must think in images. If you can’t visualize your subject matter, you can’t describe it or illustrate it.

Wild is one of the reasons people throng to Taos. Uninhabitable spacious vistas go on and on for what seems like forever. The color, the fusion of value and space is intoxicating.

I have a love affair with deserts. Teeming with life and color in the springtime and then withering to prickly dry sagebrush and cactus through the scorching heat of summer. Tumbleweeds blow across the roadways and line fences with woody entwined growth. They roam across the desert orchestrated by the wind in a primordial gracefulness; rolling and tumbling, following least resistance.

Taos gets under your skin. The brilliant sunsets, Native American colors and sounds, the howl of a wolf or coyote, the fresh air caressing your skin, filling your lungs. Prickly cacti needle you into submission. The stalwart saguaro look almost human in the evening shadows.

This lovely verse from the Poet Society’s Jillena Rose describes it well:

Taos
by Jillena Rose

Bones are easier to find than flowers
in the desert, so I paint these:
Fine white skulls of cows and horses.

When I lie flat under the stars
in the back of the car, coyotes howling
in the scrub pines, easy to feel how those bones
are much like mine: Here is my pelvis,
like the pelvis I found today
bleached by the sun and the sand. Same
hole where the hip would go, same

white curve of bone beneath my flesh
same cradle of life, silent and still in me.

(Poem copyright ©2011 Jillena Rose all rights reserved)

Dreams Light a Fire Beneath us – Reality Grounds us

Exercising imagination is critical to the artist’s life. Whether you write, perform, paint or draw, working from research and knowledge is not enough. An artist must interpret, design, and create. An artist’s work must represent his unique perspective on the world.

Artists need buyers, teachers, supporters, lovers, friends, and constant inspiration for their work. Knowing who you are and what you think about issues is critical. Having opinions and knowing why you have them brings clarity and purpose to your work. Everything an artist sees, hears, and learns becomes a stepping stone that leads to creation.

In order to grow, we must have our feet grounded in reality. We must make logical and conscious decisions every day concerning our finances, our basic needs, and the people we interact with. Constantly flowing between a living reality and a fantasy land or a dream world of our own making definitely poses problems.

"Raccoons at Sunrise"

I don’t know about you, but when I’m in creative mode, my friends and loved ones may literally have to drag me away. They may have to repeat themselves often as I escape into la la land. I may seem moody and aloof at times. I may appear distant and detached from their needs and wants.

Finding a balance between these two worlds is critical to an artist’s survival. Supportive people who share our dreams, or at least understand them, can make all the difference. Knowing us, caring about us requires effort, patience, and maturity.

The artist must also learn to compartmentalize his life in order to find balance between the realities of the here and now, and the need to make a living; between living within your means, and recognizing that others have important needs, too.

“No man is an island,” said John Donne (1572-1631). Writing a series of devotionals for Christians, he spoke about a bell that rings not only to call the preacher to come, but the congregation. The importance of Donne’s concept is also expressed in other religions, particularly Buddhism.

“…No man is an island, entire of itself…any man’s death diminishes me, because I am involved in mankind; and therefore never send to know for whom the bell tolls; it tolls for thee.”

"Sand Crane Dreams" 

And it tolls for me. It tolls for you. We’re all involved with mankind. As artists our greatest joy is in giving back to humanity, to the world we love, our personal take and interpretation of it.