When one loves the American West, the reasons vary. For some, it’s where they were born and raised, and the love is deep and generational. For others, it’s a place they call home because they moved here to live close to vast and still-wild spaces. There are still secret, sacred spaces here, relatively untrammeled by throngs of people starved for natural beauty. This slot canyon off of the Burr Trail is one such spot. The perspective of this painting is of standing inside the tall, tall, red rock canyon looking out toward its entrance. To stand inside the canyon’s towering red, varnished walls is to stand inside a temple. It’s quiet there; protected, ancient, and accepting. Once I visited Norte Dame in Paris. It’s height, beauty, and grandeur were humbling. This place evokes the same feelings of awe and wonder. My painting was my need to speak to the feeling of walking out into the sunlight after visiting a deeply sacred space. It’s a birth, and perhaps a new beginning.
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