I’ve never been a reader of The Bible. My knowledge of scripture was filtered through my Catholic upbringing, and I must admit, even that is foggy at best. I could remember the prayers in Sunday morning mass, but I think the ritual alone settled into my brain… I never paid much attention to the words themselves, or what they meant. I guess it would help to buckle down and work my way through the “good book” at some point, if only to brush up on my trivia for my moment in the spotlight on Jeopardy (a guy can dream.) Nevertheless, I know enough about references to wandering in the desert, or the wilderness. A panacea for dealing with the world, not a forced exile, or an “exodus” to go back to the Bible, but a time of reflection in any event. In the days of my youth, I had no comprehension of the depths of nature, the extent of wilderness, no understanding of wide open spaces, where humans are but a blip in an unforgiving landscape. We didn’t have “wilds” in suburban NJ. My time in the American Southwest has giving me much, but probably the greatest gift is a chance to get out in the middle of nowhere, alone with my thoughts (and my cameras.) I’m far from a brave person; I’m generally anxious, and easily skittish. Animals that can hurt me, insects that bite and sting, an unrelenting sun… these are things that can rattle my mind quite easily. And yet, I can still muster the resolve to “get out there” into the desert, alone… and sometimes, unafraid. And the rewards are many. Sunrise in the desert is a glorious thing. Silence at maximum volume. The light, unique. A chill in the air, maybe for the first 30 minutes or so after the sun breaks over the horizon. Wandering through the Arizona desert last weekend, the world let me exhale… and then take a huge breath in again. Time alone is good for my soul, at least in small doses. To readjust, to recalibrate. And while my creativity continues to flow, I will tap into that river of inspiration, and see what it yields. Needless to say, I made many photographs on the trip. Primarily using my Holgawide 120 Pinhole camera to take in the breadth of the open landscape and the majesty of the stoic sentinels of the desert, the Saguaro cactus. Another step on a creative journey. A small step for now, as I do my own wandering through the desert, literally and figuratively. I’ll see where it leads me.

Those of you who know me well, know that I am a person who values tradition. And even though most of my life is lived without the presence of any specific religious or cultural influences, I still choose to adhere to a cobbled-together smattering of rituals. Many revolve around my Catholic, Italian-American upbringing. A quick look at my pantry will prove my devotion to pasta, tomatoes, and pizza, never mind the odd collection of religious mass cards, rosary beads, and candles that are scattered throughout the hidden storage areas in my house.

Over the years, I have become more fascinated with the contemporary adherence to faith-based traditions. New Mexico is an ideal place to see this on display, especially around this time of year, as the 40 days of Lent lead to the celebration of Easter. Every year, for probably the past 10 years or so, I’ve taken part in two Lent-related rituals. One is my weekly Lenten Special lunch at Garcia’s Kitchen. Tortas de Huevos are a special treat, only available during Lent, and every Friday I’d head down to Central Ave in West Downtown to get my fill. The other thing I would do is the Good Friday pilgrimage walk up Tomé Hill, at sunrise. The site is truly magical, and to scramble up the rocky hill, and sit beneath the crosses as the sun peeks out over the Manzanos in the east; it is something very special, regardless of your own belief system.

Of course, this year, none of this was able to happen. I did get to enjoy a couple of meals at Garcia’s before the stay at home orders came out. But my annual trek up the Hill did not happen yesterday. I truly missed it. Even the pre-dawn drive south has a certain kind of feeling to it. I am sad I could not do it this year, but also grateful that I am home, safe, with my wife. We have food, alcohol, toilet paper and a fairly reliable wifi connection, so all things considered, I am lucky…blessed even.

As I said, I am not a religious person, but this weekend seems to be an appropriate time to have thoughts of renewal, recovery, return. While I breathe, I hope.