With family, work, art and performances taking up so much bandwidth, I finally have some time with “nothing much going on.” Which has it’s own challenges, to be sure. We humans like to be busy, or do we like to be lazy but are forced to be busy? Not sure if this drive is intrinsic in our DNA or if it is the result of some Christian work ethic (what is the source of the seven deadly sins, after all?) but it is the twin poles of an ongoing existential dilemma for me. Quiet times open the door for introspection, which opens the door for melancholy, which opens the door for depression. But the other side of that coin is overwork, over stress, tension, anxiety…and a desire to break free of all responsibility. So where is the middle ground? I have been trying hard to be at peace with the “in between” times, the silence, the quiet, the time of not much happening. Maybe there is some Buddhist tome that would explain it all to me. Maybe it’s just the burden of having a brain that never turns off, even when it is at rest. For now, I’ll just try to BE. Enjoy the silence.

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.