Namoosté (The Bovinity in Me Recognizes the Bovinity in You) • 6x8 • oil on linen

Spring Ahead • 12x12 • oil on linen

Pumpkins and Port • 12x9 • oil on linen

Daybreak on the Open Range • 20x30 • oil on linen

California Pastoral • 11x14 • oil on linen

Slow Awakening • 9x12 • oil on linen

Coastal Grove • 12x18 • oil on linen

Desert Solitude • 12x16 • oil on linen

Follow The Shadows • 8x10 • oil on linen

New Mexico Chamisa • 10x8 • oil on linen

Morning In Monterey • 8x16 • oil on linen

Moored In Monterey • 8x10 • oil on linen

Waiting At The Fraser Station• 10x10 • oil on linen

New Moon Lake • 14x18 • oil on linen

Refuge • 14x18 • oil on linen

The Unveiling • 12x18 • oil on linen

Firehole Suite • 14x18 • oil on linen

Waiting• 12x10 • oil on linen

Bodega Bay Reprise • 11x14 • oil on linen

Winter In The Canyon • 11x14 • oil on linen

Witness • 10x8 • oil on linen

Hallelujah Trail • 10x12 • oil on linen

Up with the Sun • 10x12 • oil on linen

Betwixt & Between • 12x24 • oil on linen

Brokedown Palace • 9x12 • oil on linen • On an outcrop at the base of Ryan Mountain stand the melting adobe walls of the 1896 Ryan Ranch homestead. At one time, the Lost Horse Well supplied their gold mining operation, the most successful of many in the area. I wander. Rusted barbed wire tangles through the scrub. Empty stone troughs lay like graves in the sand. I discover the oxidized steel skeleton of an old windmill, and later, much farther away, the broken circle of blades. But what sticks with me is the black and white photo I'd seen of Mrs. Ryan; she is sitting on her grand porch, pleased, rich with integrity.

By Hand • 8x6 • oil on linen

From Out of the Blue • 24x18 • oil on linen • This is the view from the front porch of the Lost Horse Ranger Station. It is enough, after a day out painting, to sit here and taste the sweet blue shadows and the last honey gold light. Yucca brevifolia. Joshua Trees are giant members of the lily family, a monocot in the subgroup of flowering pants that also includes grasses and orchids. They can live to be 800 years old. The yucca moth is solely responsible for their pollination. Flowering is not an annual event, though, occurring only in years of sufficient rainfall. Fifty years ago, the Mojave Desert could expect 10 inches of rain annually; now, because of climate change and pollution from Los Angeles, Joshua Tree National Park receives a mere 4 inches of rain each year.

Heat of Noon • 10x10 • oil on linen

Last Light Over Lost Horse • 8x10 • oil on linen • "I soon realized that no journey carries one far unless, as it extends into the world around us, it goes an equal distance within." —Lillian Smith

Oasis Invitation • 8x14 • oil on linen

On Evening's Edge • 18x24 • oil on linen

Raven's Blossom • 12x12 • oil on linen • The unmistakable ruckus of ravens arouses my curiosity, and bemused, I follow their laughter through the heat. I find them perched upon the weighty white Joshua tree blossoms. "Ha! Ha! Byook byook byook!" they holler. One leans down, his black feathers iridescent in the sun, and begins tearing at the flower. He rips at the petals, tossing them into the air whole beakfuls at a time, showering himself. "Ha! Ha!" The scene erupts into a cacophony of cheering ravens and fluttering white.

Red Sky Morning • 20x16 • oil on linen • There's no sense pretending to sleep. All night the banshee winds have wailed and howled. Sixty mile per hour gusts sound like screams between the rocks, screeches through the spines. For a week I have been seeking the lee side of rock formations, shrubs, anything in order to paint out there. Nothing pummels a person quite like the wind. Meanwhile, sand has worked its way through the pores of the house, covering everything. I make my tea and stand at the rattling window. The darkness gives way. Red sky morning, artists take warning...

Rock Garden • 12x16 • oil on linen • On the south side of Cap Rock, I find a secret rock garden where blue bellied lizards scamper across the boulders. Landscaping by Mother Nature. Gram Parson (1946-1973), guitarist for The Byrds and The Flying Burrito Brothers, was a hugely influential presence in the '60s music scene. He also held a deep affinity for Joshua Tree National Park. Alone or with friends, he would disappear into the desert for days at a time. While preparing for such an outing, Parson died of a drug and alcohol overdose at the nearby Twentynine Palms Inn. His family arranged for a private funeral. His friends, however, intended to honor Parson's wish by spreading his cremated remains over Cap Rock. With a borrowed hearse, they stole the body from LA International Airport and drove it back to Joshua Tree. There, unencumbered by sobriety and without the benefit of previous funeral pyre experience, they doused the body with 5 gallons of gasoline and threw a lit match inside the coffin. What resulted was an enormous fireball. This got the attention of a park employee, and the friends were later arrested. Since there was no law against stealing a dead body, they were only fined $750 for stealing the coffin and were not prosecuted for leaving 35 lbs of Parson's charred remains in the desert.

Sunlight on Stone • 6x8 • oil on linen • "Synclines, anticlines, monoclines... Deep time is too deep for me. What's amazing to me is that we are here now." — Edward Abbey

Tenacity • 12x10 • oil on linen • It is astonishing to me, the way life takes hold in the desert. With only a handful of sand and a few drops of moisture, seeds germinate and flourish. Trees grow forth from solid rock. I imagine their roots, edging down through the faintest of cracks, anchoring and withstanding. Maybe we aren't so different?

Through the Eye of the Needle • 12x9 • oil on linen • I am remembering that there's not much I need. Water, definitely. Clothes that cover my body. A bit of food. A way to get out of the sun and the wind. The Park Service gave me a compass to add to my collection, and that's been useful, though not as profoundly generous as their lack of cell phone reception. I am indebted to this crazy landscape for reminding me how to listen, truly listen.

With the Wind at Your Back • 14x11 • oil on linen

Young Desert Tortoise • 6x8 • oil on linen • Gopherus agassizii. The desert tortoise is a native of the Mojave and Sonoran Deserts. They show very strong site fidelity and have established home ranges where they know their food and water resources, as well as their neighbors. Adults are able to survive a year or more without access to water. Tortoises can live to be 80-100 years old, although predation, disease and habitat loss have led to a significant decrease in their population.