From August 29 to September 24 of 2021, I slept in a cradle, a great crevice, between two painted mountains on Ghost Ranch just north of Abiquiu New Mexico. Estudio Corazon is an artist in residency program created by a great American artist, Diane Arenberg, during the tumultuous pandemic year, 2020.

Ms. Arenberg converted a series of nine 1940s adobe casitas that had been built for a team of geologists who were studying the magnificent rock formations on the legendary Ranch.

For the artists invited to spend a month in this splendid and challenging environment, each has their own casita which consists of private sleeping quarters and a private fully functional art studio. I was one of those fortunate few offered the opportunity to spend a month – fully fed by a chef in the dining hall, exploring some of the most beautiful hiking trails in the United States, and able to carry my art supplies anywhere on the ranch to paint en plein air. Glorious Luxury! In this post I will tell you a little bit of the story of my time at Ghost Ranch. I’ll show you beautiful photos of this extraordinary and strange place and ultimately, for the first time, I will post all of the paintings I created in there in the warm arms of Estudio Corazon.

So many beautiful mornings I was up before the sun and on a high desert trail to watch the sunrise. Often, I was surprised by the exquisite silence which was so alien to me after the sirens and clamoring chaos of New York City during the pandemic. Occasionally, I encountered great wild creatures. Specifically, one morning in Box Canyon around 7AM~ a staring contest with a rather aggressive bobcat who didn’t care for my presence at her watering hole. A singular experience.

The Work

Fascinated by these strange and unbelievable rock formations, I felt compelled to capture this one which faces east as if standing guard. The mysterious, giant, and precariously balanced shapes are so common in these mountains that I could not resist giving them names and painting them as figures. This is the piece I was carrying when I faced off with the bobcat. I had been told that if I ever encountered a wild cat not to run but, to stand my ground and make myself as big as possible. I stood with my straw hat in one hand and this canvas, a finished painting of the violet morning sky, in the other, arms extended and eyes steady on the cat.

This was the first piece I “finished” at the residency. I was so out of my element and both exhausted and exhilarated that I found myself sort of creatively frozen. This piece brought me back to myself as I began to find my own way to paint the mountains. A separate style and space

In the arroyo behind and below the labyrinth there is a creek bed and a path that is hidden. A green damp path wanders thru a dense cottonwood grove with views looking up at Kitchen Mesa. Catching a glimpse of the giant rock formations thru the trees I imagined them as lovers entwined in a secret embrace.

Arriving at the Rio Chama river just below the damn and north of the tiny town, Abiquiu, just after sun up. I was so charmed by the golden morning sun on the water. The constant ripple of the water on rocks the music of the morning.

Chronologically speaking, this was my first painting at Ghost Ranch. I carried this little canvas into the valley of the Celeophisis bone bed on the Kitchen Mesa trail. I was angry with myself, rushing my connection to the land. I had been painting linear buildings and lush gardens in NYC for so long that the erratic wild lines and sharp shapes of the mountains confounded me. After two days of not getting the mountains right with charcoal on paper, I squared my shoulders and marched out into the wilderness to have a serious talk with myself and god and the mountains about how I would not give up. I did not get this painting right away.. it took much more patience than I had that day. In my studio, with the gentle passing of time in that dreamlike place, this painting evolved. You can still see in the rendering of the sagebrush in the foreground my rough determined brushstrokes. I decided to leave them just as they were painted on that first day, spiky and resolute.

I spent quite a bit of time on the matrimonial trail . This trail wandered thru a huge bed of hills, up and over and around the reddest dirt I’ve ever seen. I found it comforting to be alone out there in the hills under the tall golden mountain. Watching the busy fire ants create their towers and the Eagle coasting on the mountain air and resting in the shade of a lone piñon tree. I love Ghost Ranch. Truth.

A night gathering was painted in the dark watching my fellow artists chat by the fire on the evening of the full moon, the Harvest moon of September 20th, 2021. We waited for the moon to rise over the mountain.. watching the glow of light grow upon its upper most crest. Magic.

An old tree chainsaw sculpture of St. Francis stands at the northern entrance to the labyrinth garden. I passed this sculpture 5 or 6 times a day always stopping to say hello or leave a small flower in his hands. He was a companion in the wilderness. I loved how his head was just split right open at the top. He was coming undone and becoming more interesting.

I packed a large naked piece of canvas. I carried it in my backpack on two separate flights into the mountains for the direct purpose of standing on it while I paint, determined not to spill paint in that pristine, almost holy, place. Once there I tacked it to the wall and used charcoal and chalk on it in effort to claim the shapes of those mountains as my own. Free, bold slashes of color in pink and orange and black and blue green on this “disposable “ piece of canvas and eventually it became a visual diary of my time at Ghost Ranch. Ideas and Emotions burned into the quiet night under that heavy blanket of stars. My own past and future stretching from my mind. The Mountain Remains.

From the porch of my casita. This grand mountain from this point of view was my own to love in starlight or in noonday sun. This view is beloved.

It was twilight and a stream of clouds wrapped her arms around the neck of the Pedernal in a slow embrace. I gazed at it entranced for 10 minutes listening to one of my fellow artists play sunset sounds on a native flute. Then I rushed to grab paint and canvas to record what I saw.. muted, peaceful and seductively subtle

This is almost all of my works on canvas from my time at Ghost Ranch. A large piece called “from the studio” did not make the journey home well. it was ripped down it’s middle by it’s own crushed frame. These posted here are all that survived.

I have begun painting around New York City again. I have been actively trying to capture autumn.

Stay tuned for Autumn in New York paintings.