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"South Dakota Ride"
16X20
oil
I've already confessed that I don't remember the precise order of the numerous and diverse re-enactments of the South Dakota ride, though I remember the scenes themselves with a lot of clarity (especially considering that this happened about 14 years ago). The next event was particularly memorable to me for what may seem like obscure reasons. But some of you will relate.
We were all gathered at the main site of the ride when Don (is that what I called him?...the one who brought the camper filled with a huge variety of booze), in a very excited state, informed us that a few miles away, there were cowboys driving a herd of cattle up and down a steep hill. We all jumped in our cars and followed him, parked, and walked the remainder of the way to the site.
Sometimes - actually, most of the time - no photograph can really capture the color, light and energy of a particular moment. This was such an episode. There was something amazing about the cattle, the cowboys, the scenery...it did feel like stepping back in time. I found that the photos I took simply couldn't capture the scope of it all. I suppose that's the appeal of an IMAX...it comes the closest to reality that you could hope for without actually being there. And the IMAX is air-conditioned...but I digress.
I will meander a bit here and disclose to you that prior to moving to Arizona in 1999, I was the quintessential stay-at-home mom. I always say that my kids would rather have been put before a firing squad than to have played soccer, but I can relate to the term. I was a soccer mom. Without the soccer. Though the incongruity of that statement does not escape me. It's somewhat a state of mind. Your life revolves around your kids and their activities...whatever they may be. Even though I was always painting during these years, my identity was mostly that of a soccer-less soccer mom.
Back to the cattle drive. In the short span of about a year-and-a-half, I had gone through a fairly drastic metamorphosis, culminating in this moment in which I was literally standing in the midst of a cattle drive in South Dakota, taking photographs and enjoying the moment. I had re-invented my life.
Before I get too poignant, I will assure you that the moment didn't last for too long. Soon I was back on the plane with my sulking, sniffing (she had acquired a cold somehow) daughter and the topic turned quickly back to reality. Sometimes reality blows. But I suppose without reality, you don't enjoy the escape from it.
Thus ends the saga (the condensed version, anyway) of my first - but not last - Artist Ride. The memory of it, though sometimes out of order, is tucked away in one of those recesses in my mind...it's stored in a beautifully decorated box, easy to open and close again, on which is marked "Priceless". Oh...and it's written in calligraphy. It needed to be fancy.
