Digital Photography. I always tell people that I grew up in the
Rockies, and while this is not untrue it could also be leagues
from the truth. My house sits in the foothills, squarely in the
place where mountain and prairie meet I imagine that at one
time my house could have been close enough to touch the
purple slopes, but over time it seems the rift has only grown
larger; the space between since filled by endless highways
and fast-food chains.
My childhood was spent watching the outside world from
inside this box. Picturesque landscapes painted the walls
and floors, but I could be an arms length or a world away from nature and not have known the difference. From the window in my parents’ room that faces west towards the Colorado sunset, only the tip of Pikes Peak is left amid the rooftops. Nature has always been an escape: from pressure, from society, and from hierarchy. The snow-melted canyons do not pass judgment the way that humans do. In our madness, we often turn to the earth to search for divination. For me, the carpets of my home became mountain meadows, the plastered lumps in the ceilings were stars from the deepest recesses of the universe. For all the places I could not be, I visited in my dreams instead.