I’ve never been in a place where such distinct forms occupy the land. The arroyo is cut into the desert by flash floods, making it flatter than surrounding hilly terrain. This lends itself to walking and pausing at what catches your eye. The southwestern light is brilliant, and the meandering shadows of cottonwood branches on the ground are as dimensional as the trees themselves. On closer look, the whirl of the bark, the feet that support its trunk, the sinuous grain of wood worn by the elements reveal unexpected organizational elements.The trunks, branches, and roots of dead junipers stand like pieces of sculpture, often with twisted arms, torsos, and legs that suggest the human form. In a dying gesture, their bare branches and roots extend on the ground along the arroyo wall, suggesting some lasting design in nature.

Though timeless, the sites and figures in these images are in their final fragile forms, after having withstood a severe environment throughout their life. The prints have been made on the thinnest Japanese gampi tissue to reflect the delicate state of the subjects, and backed with metallic leaf which confers the inner glow that I saw in them. I have preserved a silver border which reflects my reverence for what I have found in this landscape. The prints are tethered in a shallow depression in textured printing paper, to preserve them each in their place of honor.