Becky and I just got back from a trip through some of the NPS administered lands in Southern Utah. We camped our way from Arches to Zion. One of the really great things was being able to see the stars so clearly at night. Of the parks we visited, Natural Bridges and Bryce Canyon had the darkest night skies.

You can see more photos of the night sky on flickr.

I just returned from a week at Anderson Ranch, where I took a printmaking workshop with Jennifer Ghormley. The workshop was a lot of fun, and the overall experience of being at the Ranch was a gift. I met many amazing people, and having a great space to work in and try out ideas made it nearly impossible to sleep during the week. Much more will come out of this once I have the time to unpack and build on the experience.

Snapshots are going up in the ranch photo set.

Salt

The first thing that struck me in the desert was the salt-tree in front of our campsite. The tree—a tamarisk—had large crystals of salt coating its leaves.

Salt manifests wherever there is water in the desert, and plants growing in oases need to be halophilic to survive. I am interested in systems where halophiles could be operating benevolently on behalf of less salt-tolerant species, and in the exoskeleton that the halophiles produce as they grow under mineral-rich conditions.

Journey

Scrambling from rock to rock in Joshua Tree National Monument cemented the desire Pete Hawkes and I had to make the journey integral to some of our work. Michael Kimmelman’s essay on The Art of the Pilgrimage brings up how travel to see a work shapes your perception of the work; I think the travel itself could become the work. What better way to share a steep mountain climb than to lead someone on it? Naturally, we would like to have some additional payoff, some tangible work that people who engage in the travel ultimately contribute to. We’re working out the details.

Zombichrucians

Let’s not forget the crazies who live out in the desert, or the artists who impersonate crazies in the desert. Christmas-tree-like light-up crosses, keep-out signs, and ringing church bells that don’t belong to you. The bells peal loudly in the desert, trailing off into the open space, never bouncing back. Someone else hears and we all scramble for the car. It doesn’t start for a minute that feels much longer, when we finally drive off into the space, becoming a glowing light on the horizon.

More images from the weekend are available on flickr.

Shanghai

Our first stop in China was Shanghai. Lyn picked us up from the airport at night and drove us through the steel-sided canyons around highways under construction into the city. We spent about five days in the city before

Bicycles near Moganshan Lu art district

Huangpu River, from the Bund

View from the World Financial Center

Bei Si Ta, Suzhou

Chengdu

Chengdu served as a home-base for travel in Sichuan. Since we had a short schedule, we weren’t able to travel too far, but we went to some pretty awesome locations. For potential travelers, I recommend staying in a hotel near the “Tourism Distribution Center.”

Closed Temple, Leshan

Leshan Dafo

Qingcheng Shang, the birthplace of Taoism

Sanxingdui Museum

Return to Shanghai

We made it back to Shanghai in time to celebrate Lyn’s birthday after a quick stop in Anhui province to climb Huangshan.

Daytrip to Huangshan

Lyn’s Photo Studio

You can see more/larger photos of the trip in my China collection (or Becky’s photostream, if she gets around to it) on flickr.

I took a drive around town after meeting Chandler McWilliams at UCLA today. I went east on Wilshire to downtown, north up Hollywood to Mulholland Dr on which I drove west as far as I could. Rain poured, causing small rivers to run down the roads ascending the hills. The sky cleared by the time I reached Mulholland, allowing me to enjoy a hike around Runyon Canyon park. It was beautiful. Unfortunately, the rain forced the closure of Mulholland where it turned into a dirt road, and I was forced to return to Venice via Sepulveda rather than continuing on to Topanga.

Entering Longhua Temple, I felt peace around me. My camera sat calm in the bag at my side. The place is something to be experienced, not photographed. I took a bundle of incense at the entrance and joined the worshippers moving through the first courtyard in prayer. I bowed first to the East, then to the North, West and South. The sandalwood smoke rose up from my hands as I prayed, thankful for the people I had met, thankful for the world I live in, hopeful that I am giving something back. We saw the statues occupying the many buildings of the temple complex — the four kings of the cardinal directions, the thousand golden buddhas, the three standing buddhas, the king of longhua temple. The calligraphy that stuck with me read, “I will not go to heaven until hell is empty.” The sun shone bright. It brought out the yellow dye in the plaster.

Once finished at the temple, we went for massage. This may have been a mistake. Instead of relaxing for two hours under the experienced hands of a master, I felt like I was constantly biting back a scream. Fingers dug in hard, then pushed and held with impossible force. I could hear Shelly whimpering next to me the whole time. Shelly promised the foot massage was better as we talked it over while soaking our feet in traditional herbs. This turned out not to be the case. While getting my left foot massaged, I became fairly certain I didn’t want my right foot to be massaged. The pain was either astronomically worse on my right foot, or nonexistant, as I passed out when the masseuse moved on from the left.

Godly serves only vegetarian dishes. However, their menu is written as if they served meat. Various odd vegetables and tofu-preparations stand in where meat is named. Particularly tasty were the ‘prawns’ in chili oil and pan-fried ‘beef’. After dinner, Shelly and I went underground at Rafflescity and enjoyed fruit smoothies at Fresh Daily (Mango and Kiwi — don’t get Durian).

We are in the belly of the volcano. Having climbed through all its percolating substructure, with everything breaking up more around us as we approach the surface, we can see the red sky above us. It is almost unrecognizable, hemmed in as it is by the concrete walls continuing up through space. The cranes on the crest of the walls are silent now, but the volcano roars beneath us, and the occasional spark glints in the sky above.

Climb through the forest, walk through the village, and hoist yourself onto the rivulet meandering away from the mountain to enter the volcano. Always be careful not to fall into her depths, or to arouse the suspicions of the inhabitants.

The Shanghai World Financial Center, slated for completion in 2008, will be the second tallest building in the world, rising 492 meters above ground. It will have the world’s highest outdoor observation terrace. At 3:18 am, the circle of sky visible through the center of the construction appears red. The workers are mute, standing still as we walk past them.

We enter the city from the east, moving swiftly over hundreds of repetitive elements: cylindrical storage tanks, rows of crops, industrial cranes, and dilapidated houses. Once landed in Pudong, we all board a bus and begin the drive into the city. We pass trucks carrying myriad items, from fat pigs, watermelons, or seaweed to immense slabs of iron and what look like empty plastic oil containers. As we enter the city itself, we are engulfed by towering residential buildings, their facades aged, air-conditioning units placed in the patterns of living across their skin. The ground, when visible from the highway, consists of streets crowded with people playing cards and conducting their day-to-day business in crumbling courtyards with scattered piles of debris.

Our guide, Allie, felt obliged to keep us entertained for the entire ride. She enumerated aspects of travel in China. Basic warnings: don’t drink the water, don’t go out alone at night. Advice: eat the fruit, go all over the city, ride in taxis (they’re inexpensive).

It is approximately midnight in Shanghai as I write this, having just returned from a delicious Japanese meal with the design clique. The apartment we come home to is rather oddly appointed; in some ways it is grand, in others, oddly sparse. We have three separate bedrooms, a large living room, decent kitchen, and a balcony. However, we have two place settings, a single pot, and a single pan with which to prepare any meals in our kitchen. We also have two towels with which to dry our three residents.

I will make a phone call tomorrow to Dai Chen to see if I can meet up with her and the art academy sometime this week. My plan is to show some of my work to other students and propose spending a weekend together simply creating art from what is at hand. I just want to take the time to really dig in and make something together without having enough time to be self-conscious about it. I imagine this art could take the form of sculpture, drawings, found object composition, performance, and interactive media. While making the work, I hope to be photographing the process and also collecting original samples of work. Destinations for personal travel: Suzhou, Huang Shan.