We take photos of each other with a 15 dollar Polaroid camera as we leave the wilderness, dressed up for our first meal back in civilization.. For 10 days we expose ourselves to the desert. We chase tortoises and phainopepla, and the desert exposes itself to us. We try to see everything. The heat warms us in June, our sweat pools together when our bodies meet. The desert exposes itself to us slowly. Bloody scars from the agave show on our legs. Our skin and lips are dry, parched. Before the photo we bathe nude under the pump at Cottonwood Springs and change into some clean clothes.
Grilled “Coyote,” That's what the menu says today, so I order it. I mean today like last week. We are at Joshua Tree National park to climb and hang out, and again it's June. A crazy-looking old guy asks me if I'm going into the “monument” ... later I find a crazy bead man while setting up top ropes with my friends above the grave of Gram Parsons. It's really hot. We get busted by the ranger for setting up a shower tied to vegetation. We tie it up climber style to a big rock – and laugh.
There's a story in this show about my journey to an intimate American landscape. It's a journey to some great places, sacred places, some very remote and hard to get to, some delightfully special, some sort of everyday. It's a journey to gila monsters and the quiet places of the world. To the bustling inner city paradise. This journey has covered the states – it's been to thunderstorms, to raging rivers, to floods, to find wild berries, and to the homes and camps of great friends and exceptional people.
“I was in another lifetime, one of toil and blood
When blackness was a virtue and the road was full of mud
I came in from the wilderness, a creature void of form
'Come in' she said
'I'll give you shelter from the storm'"