Death Valley at Stovepipe Wells
The bad thing about staying in Death Valley National Park is that there are limited options of where to stay. You have three: an expensive hotel; a less expensive hotel; and camping.
The good thing about staying in the park is that there are only two hotels and limited camping. There are no neon-lit chain hotels, no glossy fast food signs. There is not even a food truck glowing in the parking lot. That means the views, even from from the less expensive Stovepipe Wells, are unobstructed million-dollar vistas.
So I set up my pochade box on the front porch of the hotel, and painted what what was in front of me: the broad valley and mountains beyond. A friend stayed with me, and she knitted while I painted.
It was a simple equation:
Being outside + Cookies and tea on the table + companionable silence broken by occasional conversation + paint on my canvas (and in my hair) = Heaven. (Bonus: bathroom nearby—a plein air painter’s dream.)
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Painting and drawing and playing tunes are the things that make life real, They are what makes my life matter. These, and berry pie.
4 comments
February 20, 2013 at 5:45 am
Lee-Ann
Beautiful view, and beautiful work!
p.s. I am envious of your temporary front porch…
March 7, 2013 at 9:48 am
maggiebird
Thank you Lee-Ann. It was a wonderful front porch while it lasted.
February 20, 2013 at 7:06 am
tatteredwing
Lovely, peaceful painting and post; reminds me of how I felt sitting with my grandmother on her porch, shelling peas, occasionally talking, mostly listening and watching, BEING.
February 22, 2013 at 4:46 am
maggiebird
Thanks Chris. With my mamaw, it was snapping beans and listening to my motor-mouth cousin tell stories and jokes all afternoon. Those porch days were lovely, weren’t they?