176. American Art

 

I’ve always been drawn to art and appreciate how it can transport me to other worlds, other times, and places of bliss, pain or somewhere in between. American art (visual art) is typically the best for me because I’m an American and people of similar sensibilities have a way of more quickly speaking (figuratively) to each other. I don’t say that to diminish other art (I certainly connect to a strong history of nature, Western, and Christian art) but to extend my appreciation to American artists.

American patriotism is easily evoked by viewing a John Trumbull painting. Of course, I consider him almost family because he was from Connecticut as is my family, but he’s also famously known because his “Declaration of Independence” hangs in the capitol rotunda in Washington, D.C.

Another great artist that I connect with is Charles M. Russell because he painted works of the American West and he also did bronze sculpturing of similar scenes. He was from Missouri and made his way to Montana as a teenager. His work evokes a mythical western frontier that is both romantic and realistic and gives everyone from the west a sense of pride and that all American idea of independence and survival against great odds.

In these modern days you don’t have to go to a museum to see these art works because you can go online and view almost all of their works. Right now, the loneliness and isolation of the pandemic has been exemplified in the work of Edward Hopper and I’ve seen more of his paintings than I ever had before. Other works become memes with comic lines, sometimes altering the painting slightly, sometimes not. Grant Wood’s “American Gothic” is a prime target, partly because of its familiarity and partly because of the dour looks of the painting’s subjects.

Of course, I haven’t come close to exhausting the list of painters and American artists that I appreciate, nor the styles. I can’t forget Georgia O’Keefe, Jackson Pollock or even Lewis and Clark. These people, along with zillions of others have altered the American vision, or forced us to look at it more closely. Some evoke romance, some pain, others just a sense of history, yet I’m grateful for them bringing me a new sense of existence.

175. Sunrise in and on the Mountains

Sunrise over Moscow as viewed from Moscow Mountain

There are few things more enjoyable than to be in the mountains. Typically, I think of being in trees when I’m in the mountains, but the desert mountains are also enjoyable if you brought some water. One of the best ways to really enjoy the mountain experience is to be up at sunrise and watch the sun come up, lighting up the entire mountain range in a splash of gold.

I’m not a morning person and most of the time when I’m in the mountains, I mean really camping in the mountains—not at home—it’s summer. You have to get up really early in the summer to see the sunrise, though it is likely to wake you up eventually. But if you really want to see it you need to be up around four o’clock. If you can get yourself up that early, get some coffee brewed and watch for the dawn in the east, you will understand why I say this is the time to most appreciate the mountains. And, of course, it’s best to be on a peak somewhere where the view is panoramic and you can watch the constellations fade into the dawn of sunrise.

There is both physical and symbolic beauty in a mountain sunrise. First, you just went through a lengthy period of darkness and, if you were sleeping, oblivion to the world and then with effort you rose to greet the dawn, to be renewed and refreshed. This miracle happens every day, yet we can still be afraid of the dark. Second, you are experiencing the greatest beauty in the universe. Shadows and night are dispelled by the vibrancy and brilliance of the sun. The green trees are gilded by the warmth and light of the sun. The black sky turns magenta, gold, sapphire and myriads of colors as the sun touches it, gilding what clouds there may be with pinks and golds and cottony whites. This event happens EVERY DAY, though more often than not, we are sleeping and miss the dramatic presentation of life, of living.

So, if you are feeling a little down with winter or pandemic blues, I encourage you to get up early tomorrow morning and get up in the hills to watch the sun rise. It will present to you a fresh start, what gratitude is all about. 

174. Open Flamed Fire

There are some things that are just satisfying. An open flamed wood fire is one of those things, whether it be in a fireplace or a campfire, the warmth, and tending of the flame lend comfort. The work that you spend cutting the wood is satisfying and the warmth of the flame is satisfying. A great deal of excitement is to be found in the warmth of the flames and the controlled nature of the small fire brings comfort and a sense of safety teetering upon danger if you don’t keep the flame small and controlled.

In my family as a kid we always burned wood to keep our home warm. There was a great deal of work involved going out into the woods and finding a “snag” or tree that had been dead long enough to have dried. Falling the tree was exciting, making sure you and everything around was safe and out of the way. Cutting the wood into blocks and splitting them into pieces so they would more effectively fill the pickup was an activity that made you feel strong while also exhausting you enough to enjoy a break with a nice cold beverage. All of that effort and joy went into flames keeping us warm throughout the cold Idaho winters.

Now I burn wood pellets for the same sort of heat with a reduced work load, so I miss that wood cutting, knowing full well that for the most part I romanticize that wood cutting which is truly more effort and time consumption than I care for in my every day reality. But I still have trees and shrubs on my lot and storms still break branches or they need occasional trimming. The work for that can be more labor intensive because now I just use a bow saw. Still, I do it with all my romanticized notions, let those branches cure in the shed, and, along with scraps of boards and cardboard, I build fires outside in a small portable fire pit I have. Sometimes I have people over, sometimes my family joins me, and sometimes I just sit alone around that fire enjoying its warmth and comfort, perhaps roasting a marshmallow or hot dog.

This sort of backyard fire and those summertime camp fires give me a great amount of satisfaction and pleasure and I am gratified that I am able to build a fire every now and then just to experience moments of conversation, warmth, and reflection. I enjoy a good open flame fire. 

173. Craters of the Moon

 

In eastern Idaho, a few miles northwest of Idaho Falls there is a special place that does not even seem of this earth. I suppose because of that some people would see Craters of the Moon as creepy or even terrifying but I love it. Its other-worldliness allows one to be transported to another world or outer space.

When you get there, you have either driven south (I write this as if it were a travel guide!) from the mountains or from the flat farmland slowly rising from the other directions. It rests at the base of the mountains and upper edge of the fertile Snake River Plain, so you will have either been experiencing dry mountains or irrigated farmland only to see this strange black eruption of once molten lava. Very little plant life adorns this strange landscape, only a little bit of unique spring wildflowers, lichen, and an occasional twisted juniper tree rising from the black rocks looking quite different from the average juniper. The wind is constantly blowing down from the mountains or up from the plains throughout the day but it settles after the sun sets. This place is very windy.

On a clear night in autumn after the sun has set and the winds die down, the sense of being in outer space is complete with the darkness and the brilliance of the stars and Milky Way as the only light. Be assured that you are miniscule and lost in deep space. I know that is probably terrifying to some, but I find it comforting to be reminded that in the scheme of the cosmos I’m very small. It melts my trouble away quicker than any of that ice in those lava tubes of these craters melts. It’s a great place to go to be reminded not only of your insignificance but the sheer miracle of your own existence. That is the fantastic gift of Craters of the Moon.

Into these forms

Into these forms I

press my thoughts on winter’s day

like snowflakes falling 

 

onto this bare page—

a leaf of autumn fallen

from glorious tree

of bird feet walking

patterned like burning embers

in the daily fire

that consumes our read

scurrying under bare trees

like ink blots pages—

I pour them to leaves

burning in the winter mind

you will someday bring.