When I was leaving my friend's house in Massachusetts, her housekeeper called out to me, "Have a great trip! And don't get murdered!" She said this in the same tone of voice a mom would say, "Don't forget to call home!" For the most part I have felt safe and traveling alone makes me more observant of my surroundings. I spent the afternoon in Badlands National Park. It was difficult to capture the grandeur and strangeness of the landscape by drawing or taking pictures. I overheard multiple people describing it as another planet. What makes it even stranger is that it is surrounded by grassy plains. This entire area used to be submerged under the sea and the layers of rock were formed by sedimentary deposits.
Sometimes I wish I were more like the person who takes a hundred mile detour to see the Biggest Ball of Twine or the Corn Palace, so on my way out of the Badlands, I made a detour to see Wall-Drug. It was a tourist trap nightmare, and needless to say, I literally lasted 10 minutes surrounded by cheap tee shirts and wooden Indian statues. Mt. Rushmore and the Crazy Horse Monument are equally touristy, but quite awe-inspiring and worth the visit. Both are very different in person than in a photo, but of course I would say this as a sculptor. Ziolkowski, the man who conceived of the idea, began the project in 1948 and worked on it until his death. Now his sons have taken over the project. I actually like what it looks like in its current unfinished state. It reminds me a great deal of Michelangelo's series of slaves in Florence. I wish there was some way to get them to stop the project and declare it finished.
On my last leg from where Crazy Horse Monument is located to Sheridan, Wyoming, I stopped at a roadside antique store. It was a large building filled to the gills with antiques, furs, and animal skeletons. As I rounded a corner inside the store, there was a live donkey standing in the aisle. I kid you not, it was blocking the entire aisle. True to its reputation, the creature would not move out of the way, so I had to choose another route. The only other remarkable thing that happened on this drive was seeing the faded outlines of purple mountains in the distance. They almost looked like apparitions and gradually materialized as I neared. Oh, and my car was also dodged by several large predatory birds. I think they mistook my red car for a large field mouse. I actually clipped a wing of one of the birds as I slowed down.
I am writing now from UCross, which is truly heavenly. I have a beautiful, spacious studio and my own bedroom with a sink. There is a chef who cooks amazing meals during the week and leaves lunches on your studio doorstep every day. Someone washes your towels and sheets once a week. The kitchen is stocked with coffee, tea and food. There are no faculty meetings or sitting on committees. As I walked back to my room from the studio, the sky was filled with stars. I am excited to start working tomorrow morning. I like to imagine Annie Proulx or Elizabeth Gilbert, both former residents, working in their studios here or walking down the same paths I will tread on over the next four weeks.
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