Wednesday, September 18th

Land Art - Journal Entry No. 4

10:48 am – The Valley of Fire State Park, Nevada

We were sweating our asses off in that little tent last night and each of us woke up gleaming in a thin layer of perspiration. Stretching my body from underneath a heated sleeping bag, I quickly reached for the tent zipper and pulled on it with force. Once it was completely open, I stuck my face out of the vessel. Refreshing air hit my face and poured into our warmed tent. It felt amazing. Maybe sleeping in a tent in this weather wasn’t such a smart idea, but sleeping outdoors has become a learning experience. Every day has gotten easier and less uncomfortable; the more you do it, the more it starts feeling natural.

Feeling groggy, I slowly made my way to the breakfast area. From the kitchen, I could smell a delicious and familiar aroma. Evy, our resident chef, was making pancakes that she introduced to those approaching her as “an American breakfast.” I grabbed a plate, loaded it with fluffy pancakes and fresh fruit and took a seat at one of the picnic tables. Our campsite at the Valley of Fire has a very nice eating area that consists of a neatly lined row of metal picnic tables housed by red sandstone. Alex and Matteo announced that we would have a brief group meeting after breakfast.

The ensuing meeting promised a short trip to Las Vegas, primarily for Evy to buy food and cooking supplies, but also to allow anybody interested in driving down the infamous strip a chance to view it. I was definitely going. Though I hate to admit it, after a few days of camping in the wilderness, visiting a city like Las Vegas where cell phone reception and Internet existed sounded completely desirable and absolutely necessary.

11:42 am – The Valley of State Park, Nevada

During the day, for lack of better expression, the Valley of Fire is incredibly hot. There are no clouds in the sky for temporary relief from the tenaciously beating sun looming above the park until it decides to set for the evening. As I learned, this part of Nevada receives an average of 4 inches of precipitation the entire year; in the summer, temperatures elevate to a scorching hot 130 degrees Fahrenheit. Today, it was in the 90s, and regardless of there being no proper showers at this campsite, a large group of us decided to engage in a game of Whiffle ball. The game was an interesting selection due to the fact that the majority of the participants were British. Most of them were completely unaware of the rules of baseball, which added hilarity to the sport.

The heat and lack of defensive success on both teams resulted in a two-inning-long event. As it ended, I decided to take a break from the sun and joined Chris Willcox in the shade of the eating area’s red sandstone. I started to write in my notebook when he asked if I was interested in seeing his work. Of course I was. I had not really investigated the work of most of the artists on the trip before coming here. I thought it might be more interesting and insightful to learn about the artist by actually meeting and living with them. So, having the opportunity to hear about Chris’s work in his own words was an instant treat. With his computer out, he happily clicked through images of his brightly colored paintings and also informed me of his latest exhibition. Prior to Land Art, Chris was at a very important reception in Washington DC. He took part in a highly anticipated exhibition at the Smithsonian that highlighted the works of artists with disabilities. Chris happened to win the grand prize, an amazing grant that would enable him to jump-start his career as a full-time artist.

I was a bit confused at first. Chris didn’t seem to have any visible disabilities. He must have sensed my misperception and explained, “I am dyslexic and have ADHD.” Through our conversation he expressed the way in which his disabilities had an effect on his self-perception growing up, describing that art had empowered him to show others that despite his learning infirmities, he was good at something. He had talent, and he proved it in his artwork. This lead into an inspiring discussion on how art has the power to liberate by allowing people to express themselves in a nourishing way.

6:28 pm – On the road, Las Vegas to the Valley of Fire State Park

I think I was the only one in the group who had previously visited Las Vegas and actually enjoyed the city. Like most Americans, I have an unabashed love for luxury hotels, gigantic buffets, nightclubs, and good shopping. It’s awful, I know, and the more of this trip I have experienced the more I realize how materialistic the things I enjoy actually are. The Europeans who came along for the ride were excited to see Las Vegas, but had interesting expectations. They presumed Las Vegas was this dirty city driven by sin and lust for sex, drugs, and money. They were accurate in their assumptions; however the city was seemingly much cleaner than they thought it would be.

As we drove down the strip, the Europeans in the van commented:

• Oh my god, this is so corporate-looking! I thought it would be a quirky-looking shit hole, but it’s actually an even worse kind of shit hole. It’s a corporate shit hole.

• This is so awful, it’s gross!

• I can’t wait to get back to the campground. I can’t take all these people and buildings right now.

My internal thoughts went more like this:

• Ah, I would kill to lay on Mandalay Bay’s man made beach right now.

• Dinner at the Cosmopolitan is amazing. I’m almost salivating thinking about it.

• It would be so lovely to spend the rest of the afternoon relaxing on a gondola in air conditioning at the Venetian.

Once a princess, always a princess, I guess. As we left out of Vegas and started towards the Valley of Fire, I reflected. Somehow, I became excited to go back to the emptiness surrounding the state park, spend time outdoors in peacefulness, and rejoin the Land Art group. My desire for overt luxury quickly faded and an appreciation for the earth and land immediately resurged. I realized that there is more to life than these human-derived edifices; I forgot that driving through Las Vegas. Craving greedy portions of food, overpriced shelter, and an excess of affluence, it’s rapacious. It’s the dream we’re forced to believe we want by the media and I fell into it, but thanks to the Land Art Road Trip, I can finally see it clearly.

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Photography Credit: Alexander Getty

Alexander Getty is a San Francisco based photographer with an immense passion for what he does. Having started at a very young age, Getty honed his craft learning from mentors, family members, and professors in Rome, London, and New York. He began his career in New York where he attended the School of Visual Arts while balancing a job at Getty Images. Today Getty lives and works as a professional photographer in San Francisco, California. His work has been featured in galleries and publications internationally.

Originally published on Promote & Preserve.