Sunrise at Mesa Arch

Monday, November 23,

Here’s how my day began…

Grumpy, tired, visual migraine obstructing my vision.

No apples left (gotta go to the store tonight).

Shower.

Clothes.

Maybe watching sunrise will help.

6 miles of driving and ¼ mile of walking and I arrive at Mesa Arch.

Oh great…there’s a crowd.

Screw the arch. Everyone’s got a picture of that. I’m gonna find my own spot.

One drop of sunlight.

The world awakes.

I’m taken back to sunrises on the shores of Lake Michigan... 

...to sunrises at Bryce Canyon...

...and know from now on I’ll remember this sunrise in particular.

The crowds disperse, and I find my way to a vantage under the arch. 

When they said this may be the most perfect photo op in the desert southwest, they weren’t kidding. The way lit sandstone frames Washerwoman Arch and Monster Tower...like it was planned that way. 

Potholes on the White Rim sparkle.

Sandstone layers recall ice layers I’ve seen coat rocks on the shores of Lake Michigan. 

Interesting.

I only remember to look back in the other direction when I walk back to my car...

...but vow afterward to watch sunrise from many different vantage points. On the other side of sunrise I see new shapes and colors that are hidden in the shadows of afternoon and evening.

Morning shadows shrink away and reveal other treasures...

And I drive home through fields of jeweled grass.

In a place like this, big space, great distance, and deep time are on full display.

It’s sometimes easy to forget the small, the close, and the fleeting.

Somewhere along the way I also forgot that I was grumpy.

Thank you.

Nostalgia

There's a beautiful clear sky this morning...waning crescent moon in between fast fading "stars" Saturn and Mars. It'll be a nice sunrise. Too bad the wind chill is -19.

It makes me miss Chicago. On a day like today I'd already have my layers on and would be speed walking down to the shore of Lake Michigan for a daily-sunrise photo session. 

It might've looked something like this...

Cutting into Copper

Some of you may remember that one of the things I loved most about my time in Evanston was its proximity to the lake shore. I became all but obsessed with making it to the beach in time for sunrise every day and was rewarded by witnessing a panoply of the most stunning vistas imaginable. Coming from Salt Lake City--a valley edged in by mountains--I wasn't used to seeing the sun break above a flat horizon. From this vantage, sunlight travels through a substantial amount of atmosphere and is scattered into displays of brilliant color that often change from minute to minute...the deepest reds, purples, and yellows thickening one moment and then vanishing the next. 

Each morning brought new surprises... 

...especially as temperatures dropped and the water began to freeze. Though one of my biggest worries before moving to the Windy City was its legendarily harsh winter, the excitement of observing lake ice actually made me jump up and down whenever sub-zero temperatures were in the forecast...

Don't worry, there is a reason for my nostalgic indulgence.

About a month ago Rob and I were wandering through the Ginko Gallery, a local art shop and studio, and I was startled to see among a stack of random art supplies...a whole sheet of bright new COPPER! I hadn't found an opportunity to exercise my engraving muscles in quite some time, and visions of ornately scrolling designs instantly began sparking through my imagination. I asked the cashier whether this was something they regularly stocked, but apparently it was kind of a one off.

My lucky day!!!

We bought it right away. 

The 6 x 12 inch sheet, prepared and cut by Chicago based K&S Engineering, sat on my desk for a few weeks as I allowed ideas to bubble and churn. A concrete vision finally took shape for me this morning, and I spent some time today experimenting with materials in preparation for the real thing.

At the very least I first had to make sure I could still handle a graver. There is no eraser for engraving. Every line is as permanent as a tattoo. It would be so PERFECT if I started in on my masterpiece and instead just scratched the whole thing up. Fortunately, I still had an old battered piece of copper I'd picked up from a machine shop at NU...perfect for practicing! Then I gathered up my sharpies (yep, that's right...even on the copper), scrounged around for some old nail polish (I know...this is getting a little ridiculous...and by the way what am I doing with such a crazy shade of RED in my collection...I'll just let you wonder:), and finally started in.

My creative mood was helped along by a playlist of "drawing music" that included Dawn of Midi's new release "Dysnomia," and LaMonte Young's "Well Tuned Piano."  I'd only made it through the first two and a half hours of the second selection when my project was complete.

I haven't decided on a name for it yet, but the scene clearly references my morning trips to Lake Michigan's western shore. I'm planning on elaborating upon this idea in the future, and might decide on a title for the series then.

Here are some up close views. One thing I've always loved about engraving is how it shimmers with every change of light...

To help preserve the copper's ruddy sheen, I lacquered over the top of the whole thing with two coats of clear polish. I eventually hope to mount the piece, but at the moment its dimensions are 6 x 12 inches.

Red Moon at Night

Last night's conditions were perfect for observing a full moon rise above lake Michigan and I was pleased to see a fair number of people gathered along the lake shore to watch.

The event did not disappoint. The rusty hue you see in these photos is pretty close to reality. If anything the moon's ruddy complexion was actually more vivid.

The moon lost a bit of its rosiness as it continued to ascend, and with its brightening the little crowds of lakeside spectators gradually disbursed.

I looked to the west. Jupiter and Venus--who have in the previous weeks appeared so close together in the sky--were now widely spaced and sinking out of view behind some buildings. Mars glowed a rusty red high in the east, and as the sky darkened a few of the brightest stars began peeking through the dusk. I knew the Dearborn would be open that night, but it had been a long tiring week and despite the lovely sky I couldn't quite bring myself to head back to campus at 10:00 pm for an hour of viewing.

Sigh.

One of these days I'm going to get excited about "things" again. The last couple months, though gratifyingly productive, have left me feeling a little empty and uninspired. I'm just a little gray inside these days. And trying to remember how to dream again.

Crepuscular rays

A new website I've been paying attention to these days is EPOD: the Earth Science Picture of the Day. It's an especially nice companion to APOD (Astronomy Picture of the Day), and features photos of everything from interesting geological formations to refracting spider webs.

Crepuscular rays (sometimes called "God rays") come up pretty frequently on the site. Not only are they beautiful to look at, but they have a simple and fascinating explanation as well.

This morning there were some nice ones over Lake Michigan...

I guess these are more subtle than most you usually see on inspirational book covers and stuff, but look closely and they are still gorgeous.

Ice and snow

The weather this year has been odd to say the least. Last winter we were all forced to endure a relentless deep freeze, but so far in 2012 our temperatures have swung wildly between the sub-zero madness that is typical of Chicago this time of year, and eerily spring-like days where temperatures soar into the upper 40s and turn all the snow into vast puddles of muddy slush.

The lake has only recently frozen close to shore...

And I've missed seeing the masses of pancake ice that I was so excited about last year, though a few strays have occasionally floated in...


...I've still been able to find a few interesting ice-scapes during my daily walks...

...but today's one of those slushy days, and most of the stark icy beauty I've developed such a fondness for has been replaced by miserable masses of wet.

On the upside, my playing has been going quite well these days and I'm looking forward to the quarter's first orchestra concerts this weekend. In case I haven't mentioned it yet, we'll be performing Mahler's 3rd symphony. I'm playing 2nd trumpet, which means that I get a lot of cool stuff to play, but can also sit back and listen to our brilliant principal trumpeter sing away on all the solos...it's great! The concert will be broadcast live online through the Pick Staiger web page. Check it out if you've got a spare couple of hours on Saturday evening.

Surfers are insane

Today dawned clear and cold.

BRRRRRRRRRRRRRR...

As I walked to school, wind chills in the single digits made my limbs throb beneath layers of clothing, and waves of heavily slushed water rolled arduously to shore beneath the barely-warming light of the morning sun.

So imagine my shock and awe when I noticed these guys out in the water...

Don't see anything? Let me zoom in a bit for you...

That's right. There are a couple of surfers out in Lake Michigan in the middle of January trying to catch a slushy wave.

WOW!

That's all I can say.