The Sand Dune Story
Somewhere long ago, my ancestors must have lived directly upon the sand. Something about sands, tiny grains that may have once been mountains move me like no other substance of earth. The sands of time speak to me so strongly that my work is directly influenced by the palettes, the structures and the way the minute channels it's tiny voice into larger legions of life. With that in mind, anyone coming to know my work will understand why I chose to name so much of the work after sand dunes around the world and why I take refuge in the deserts to create. I've had in my mind for years now to embark on a journey shooting my work, whichever medium speaks to me at that chapter in life, atop the sand dunes around the country. Death Valley offers a few different landmarks of sand dunes and Eureka Dunes has had my name all over it since I first spied their nostalgic beauty in an image. This past April, as the wild flower began to dot the landscape and the winds were still shaking their winter coats off, I ventured alongside a fantastically talented photographer friend and the breath taking model. Ben Renschen, who is an angel riding the tails on a prayer of mine to call in more visually inspiring friends, said yes in a heart beat to this new roadtrip. Melina Drake, a silent and strong woman of Mexican/Choctaw descent, excitedly responded to my call for long dark haired model. She is a woman of the Earth by all means around and an budding photographer. All three of us embarked into the scorching, sandstorm weather of Death Valley for a weekend. Below is what happens when your focus is on making art, unifying in creative vision and releasing yourself 100% to the elements. The sandstorm was intense and it felt like we were all being wind slapped by the spirits of the land. I am the type that gets an idea in mind and won't cease until it's complete so the other two really hard to bare with my head strong nature when it came to climbing the dunes. I could care less about my sun burnt face and my bruised legs, or even the parching that came about when the water bottle trickled low. When I am conjuring spirit, there is no stopping so onward ho we went. I was left breathless by the portal to high heaven art Ben captured. Enjoy.