SummerTroll: photograph

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Friday, October 7, 2016

I am a Storyteller.

When people ask me what I do, I know they are asking me my profession. I am a Museum Director, that's the title I have been assigned by my employer. But that's not all of what I do or all that I am. Even the title I've been assigned doesn't tell anyone what I do at the museum. It's difficult to find one term that expresses who I am and what I do.

A week ago I had dinner with a friend and wanted to talk to her about some of the conflict I am feeling in relation to the writing and photography I am submitting. The root of my conflict lies in the fact that I feel I needlessly abandoned my art because I judged myself 'not good enough.' When it came time to chose a college degree leading to vocation, I chose to pursue anthropology and abjured art. I enjoyed history and museums, but it was not at the same level. For 16 years, I kept art (painting, photography, creative writing) on the periphery. I never disengaged completely but did not allow myself to fully immerse either.

Soft Like...

Soft like clouds,
dreams of stone and fire.
Soft like skin,
leather baked by sand,
Soft like curves,
hills of thorn and liar.
Soft like rain,
storm winds upon land.

Soft like feathers,
bubbles popped forever.
Soft like love,
grips tight and hammers.
Soft like life,
is the hottest fever.
Soft like people,
these are just glamours.

Where Everyone Whispers

I drove to Arches National Park late in the evening, my first national park of the trip. Before I arrived though, I had to travel through Colorado and parts of Utah. That was no hardship.

Let me begin by saying that Colorado was an adventure to drive. The scenery varies from meadows, to canyon walls and highways following the river bends.

I experienced a stillness as I zoomed forward through Silverthorne, Vail, and Glenwood, Colorado. The contrast of Texas' temperatures (well into the 100s) and Colorado's 50-60 degrees brought on feelings of calm and renewal associated with Fall or Spring. The glimpses of snow peaks in the fogged distances were wintry surprises. Colorado was magical not only for its adventurous landscapes but also for its Summer of all Seasons.

Though tucked away from the main interstate, many of Colorado's towns have entrenched themselves into the nooks and crannies of the mountain and canyon walls. Though you may not see them, they are there scattered between the major cities. Cross the state line into Utah and the little towns are few are far between.

I didn't know what to expect from Utah, other than a beautiful national park. My first thought after crossing the state line was, "What do people do here?"... "What do visitors do?" If you really want to experience the beauty of Utah, you have to stop the car frequently. Whereas Garden of the Gods taught me to slow down and enjoy the places around me. Utah brought me to a halt. (Click here for photographs of this trip.)

Without words being spoken, people smiled as they passed on the trail. It didn't matter if you were Hispanic, Biker, College kid, Punk/Goth, Muslim, or White Girl. Interactions were careful, sincere, polite and often conducted in whispers. We all had a single purpose when we stopped, to see an indescribable petrified beauty.

It wasn't until I reached Arches National Park that I realized a silence had permeated the entire trip. At Arches everyone spoke in whispers including me. Even children recognized the reverence owed when witnessing the majestic artistry of the Earth. Arches National Park truly was like a outdoor art museum in which the statues were molded by the science of nature.