Leyenda Eterna

I met Foxie Flambé last summer camping in Jackson Hole, Montana. We had both been invited to a spiritual gathering that celebrated the opening of the Sacred Door Trail, a 165-mile long, nondenominational, circular, pilgrimage route. For four days and nights, we kept a sacred fire burning, listened and participated, while spiritual leaders from faiths around the globe blessed the space. For many of us, it was an intense and changing experience, full of great joy and great release. On the last night, Foxie sidled up to me and asked if I would be interested in wearing a feather Mohawk. Obviously, I said yes.

Fast-forward seven months, I get an email from Foxie asking me to purchase a ticket for the festival event Leyend Eterna. At first, I balked, and totally missed the chance. I had reservations, the event was being held across the Mexicali border in a desert canyon in Baja, Mexico, an area known for border violence. Knowing I had missed the opportunity, I stopped thinking about it until a month later when I received another email, they had released more tickets. At the time I was traveling through Mexico and had nothing but a suitcase full of clothes, no camping gear whatsoever. Foxie promised me that she was fully equipped to host me. If I just showed up at her house in Orange County a day or so before the event to purchase food and pack, she had all the camping gear and costumes I would ever need. I bought the ticket.

One month, and a pickup truck brimming with gear later; I was watching the sunrise as we drove south. What followed was one of the most unique festival events I have ever attended. Leyenda is much like Burningman, but set in an arid desert canyon with an oasis of palm trees and fresh running hot and cold springs. The six hundred or so participants are assigned small campsites, each with their own natural hot tub. During the day, hot weather is offset by hiking up to icy waterfalls, where one can brave high rock jumps into the deep pools below. On Saturday, there is an annual pool party where all attendees come dressed in their finest festival regalia to dance, swim, and enjoy their vice of choice. Thankfully, the main stage does not bump twenty-four hours a day, which allows you to really enjoy the tranquil, natural beauty, of the place. At night though, the party is on and everyone gets down on the dance floor until the sun comes up.

I was encamped right next to the main stage with Hullabaloo. The core of camp Hullabaloo is a group of circus performers known as Lucent Dossier. Needless to say, over the top pranks, performances, and general shenanigans were the norm and there was never a moment when someone wasn’t in hysterics laughing. I felt super welcome in this group, and I am so thankful that knowing no one but Foxie, I was surrounded by such fun-loving, caring souls.

Each night, as the moment struck me, I snuck off and did photo shoots in the beautiful, moonless, desert, darkness. Although, on very dark nights the challenge is to figure out how to light myself, the stars that appear in these images really bring out a special beauty. For a few of these shoots, I was able to borrow Isis wings from Foxie, a special treat that I hope to revisit someday. I am really happy with the work that I accomplished over these four nights, the last being a photo shoot with Miss Foxie Flambé herself. Enjoy the images, and if anyone ever sends you an invite to Leyenda Eterna, don’t hesitate!

As always, double click to enlarge and please feel free to share, repost and subscribe. Xoxo –janelle

Isla Mujeres

It has been about four months since I last made any new images. This winter, I have been living in the snowy Colorado Mountains and I find that when the weather is cold I have no interest in creating new work. Fortunately, this post finds me traveling through the Yucatan peninsula of Mexico. I arrived on the full moon, landing in Cancun and immediately taking a ferry out to Isla Mujeres. During the day I partook of the usual beach stuff, highlighted by a snorkeling trip to the Under Water Museum. This place is absolutely amazing and a lot bigger than I expected, there were sculptures all over the place, and a lot of surprising ones I had not seen in any photos of the project. My biggest regret is not being a diver, as the sculptures sit about thirty feet under the ocean surface and snorkeling just does not do the artwork justice. For more info on this incredible place, check out: http://www.musacancun.com/.

By night, I have been out under the full moon on the rocky seaside cliffs, evoking La Serena. Fitting, as I am on the Island of Women. The motivation for these images came while dancing to Cuban salsa, at La Terraza, a great local bar. I met three German sailors there who were living and working on The Stahlratte: www.stahlratte.org. This is huge steel sailboat run by a non-profit foundation, and by far the largest sailing vessel docked on the island. Anyone can sail with them as they circle the Caribbean, but it is a work/live situation not a cruse ship. From my tour of the boat and meeting the staff, I imagine this might be as close to feeling like a real pirate as one could find these days. With sailing on my mind, and hearing stories of vessels breaking up on the rocks surrounding the island, I was inspired to play the roll of the temptress on the cliffs.

In the first images, La Serena beams a light into the night, mimicking a lighthouse and falsely directing ships. Later, she sings out to the sailors, enchanting them and luring them to their demise. It felt so good to be shooting again, and to also have a little narrative in mind while I was working. I do feel a bit rusty, and I am test-driving my brand new Nikon D7000. So far so good but I kind of wish I had not left the manual at home. The images I am getting look gorgeous with this improved sensor, but I have to be careful these days, as my images files are three times larger and my computer’s hard drive is going fast. I have about ten more days in the Yucatan to shoot new work, cenotes and Mayan ruins here I come. As always click on the image to see a larger version.

El Charco del Ingenio

Above the town of San Miguel de Allende, Mexico is the 160 acre nature preserve El Charco del Ingenio. Over the past few years this place has become one of my main centers for creativity and inspiration. I have had the privilege to shoot some of my best photographs in this space as well as work as an invited artist on an incredible land art project. For this project I built four large-scale altars, one to each of the four directions, incorporating different indigenous mythologies. When I returned to San Miguel this September, I knew I was going to have to do some new photography in the preserve. Although you are technically not allowed to be in the park after dark, if you go to watch the sunset and stay for a few hours they are generally tolerant. I always warn the guards that I will be there late just so we don’t scare the crap out of each other in the dark. Surprising men with big guns isn’t exactly high on my list of priorities.

The main beauty of the Charco is that there are a plethora of different ecosystems crammed into a small space. The area around San Miguel is a high altitude (7000ft), two-season (dry and rainy) climate. The plants are very hardy, and include massive prickly pear cactus trees, very spiny acacias, and lots of grasses. Water can be quite scarce at times. In the center of the park is a large dam created wetland that regularly hosts Autobahn bird watching tours and can flood or become a dry mud flat depending on the season. Below the dam there is a very steep rocky canyon with sheer hundred foot walls. On hot days you can climb down very sketchy ladders to the shady floor and sit on the boulders amongst cool pools of water. At the head of this canyon is a large natural spring or El Charco. This spring is said to be protected by a spirit, El Chan, that harms anyone who comes too close. There are many tales of drowning in the spring and apparently scuba divers have never found the bottom, just a maze of underwater tunnels. For some reason, depending on the season, the water changes colors and can range from white, red and orange to deep blues and greens.

Once again, my friend Nico came to assist and after watching the sunset from the cliffs over looking San Miguel, we got to work. The location I scouted was below the dam and above the spring where there are large pools of water and lots of boulders to climb on. Once we got started, a lovely bright half moon rose to illuminate the scene. We had such a beautiful experience that evening I’m not even sure I was really concentrating on the work. Behind us a small waterfall was trickling down, the air was warm and comfortable, the wind was calm, and to my absolute delight the fireflies decided to join us. To say this was a magical and memorable evening only saddens the great poets. At one point I think we almost decided to curl up on one of the big, flat, sun-warmed boulders to sleep under the stars. Honestly, I probably would have done just that if I weren’t half packed and leaving at eight in the morning.

What follows are the last images taken with my old Tamron 10-24 lens. After shooting probably 60,000 images with this lens, I am really starting to see the quality of the images degrading. I have heard that the cheap digital lenses eventually wear out, but this is the first one I have actually used to death. I am not unhappy with the intentions of this work, but I am not thrilled with the image quality. There were a lot of interesting shots in this group that just didn’t turn out well and I know it has much to do with my lens. So out with the old and in with the new, I am chomping at the bit to start using my new Nikon 10-24, yippie!

Yellowstone National Park

After the council of The 13 Grandmothers, my friend Terra Celeste and I went to Yellowstone National Park for the first full moon in August. Upon leaving Grandmother Margaret’s home, we were asked to take an offering to the Medicine Wheel in eastern Wyoming. This location is one of the oldest sacred spots in North America and may have been built over 10,000 years ago. Different indigenous tribes have been coming and doing sacred ceremonies there for so long, no one is exactly sure who built it in the first place. The meeting of the Grandmothers was a very intense experience, and it was really nice to complete the ceremony at the Medicine Wheel, with an offering of tobacco and prayers.

As we continued our journey, through the park to the town of West Yellowstone, we saw an owl, a pair of coyotes, and a buffalo, all wandering in the middle of the road. After arriving, we had quick dinner, checked into our hotel, and headed back into the park to see how geysers and thermal water look under a full moon. August in Yellowstone is high season, and you can expect throngs of tourists unless you head out in the middle of the night. With the exception of a few other photographers, we had the place to ourselves. If Yellowstone is a magical place by day, it is far more amazing by full moon. As we walked around the geysers, moist steam rolled off the thermal pools and punctuated the chilly air; intermittently enveloping us in shifting clouds of blinding, white, warmth.

Over the next two nights, we shot for several hours in the park and came up with some really nice new images. I would love to return to Yellowstone, as I feel like there is so much more we could have done. I love the color and texture in the park, from the vibrant blues of a full moon sky to the rainbow colors of the pools. Although, I think they do work in most of these shots, one of the hardest things about shooting in the park are the walkways. It was a real challenge to either incorporate them, or to hide them in the images. Regardless, I am very happy with what happened during this shoot. I think that a few of these photos really need to be viewed big, so please click on them to enlarge.

The Thirteen Grandmothers

This summer I was invited by my friend Terra Celeste to attend the 11^th council of the Thirteen Grandmothers. I had no idea what I was getting myself into by attending this gathering, and in a lot of ways the repercussions of this event may directly affect my life for the next several years. The thirteen grandmothers are indigenous women from different cultures around the world. They are on a mission to pray in their own individual and collective ceremonial ways in order to bring peace, and balance back to the universe. Although these women are often confined to walkers and wheelchairs, make no mistake; they are possibly the most powerful group of women I have ever encountered.

The Council was held on the Lame Deer Cheyenne reservation in eastern Montana. Cheyenne grandmother Margaret Behan hosted this gathering. Originally, three hundred participants were expected, but over the course of the four-day encampment, over seven hundred arrived from around the world. I, like many others, did not know what to expect but the importance of this council was quickly evident, especially in regard to the Cheyenne people.

Initially, the event was to be held at Grandmother Margaret’s house. After a forest fire came within a few hundred feet of her property only days before the opening, the gathering was moved to the local public powwow grounds, a move that proved to be quite fateful. Although, the grandmothers are on a peace mission, change often comes with great resistance. After only a short time on the reservation, I was given a crash course in tribal politics. Basically, it is tradition for the elder men to speak and hold council, and although women are generally free to express their opinions, they do not make important tribal decisions or hold councils of their own.

By bringing the grandmothers to the reservation, Margaret was going against thousands of years of tradition and was met with physical and psychological opposition. A group of militant young men came onto the powwow grounds before the event and threatened cause problems if the grandmothers did not cease and desist. This clearly shook up everyone involved and after a meeting between the grandmothers that lasted into the wee hours of the night, they decided to proceed. Thankfully they did, because this may have been one of the most important events held in recent Cheyenne history.

As the days progressed, the grandmothers prayed, and began telling their stores, both personal and historical. They told of war, oppression, massacre, marginalization, and the loss of land, food, water and children, they mourned the loss of old traditions and ways of living. Many white people also came forward with stores of their own, including the great grandniece of General Custer, who asked forgiveness for her family’s roll in oppressing and murdering the Cheyenne people. Slowly, the men started to come around, to hear the stories, and witness the healing the grandmothers were offering. By the end of the gathering, many of the tribal chiefs had don their feather headdresses and welcomed the grandmothers, thanking them for taking action and opening their eyes to the possibilities of a new future.

So much happened while I was at this event I cannot begin to summarize everything in this brief blog. Suffice to say, I saw a wild wolf, ran out into a lightning storm, witnessed a crowd react to a tiny ancient Nepali woman the way one would expect from a revival church, slept in a tipi, and made a promise I intend to keep. In our final meeting, Grandmother Margaret asked me to return to the reservation and hold a photography workshop for the local kids. I am just starting to work out the details of this agreement which involves a lot of research, grant writing, and planning, but hopefully by next summer I will be able to fulfill my commitment to Grandmother Margaret.

The Bridgers

Concluding The Sacred Door Trail opening ceremony, a group of us headed to Weston Pew’s stunning family-ranch that nestles up against the Bridger mountain range just north of Bozeman, Montana. The week spent there was a much-needed decompression after the spiritual intensity of the previous few days. We spent our time resting, singing along with guitars on the porch, eating home cooked food and going on a bunch of outings. One of these outings was on the fourth of July and included rafting down the Yellowstone River, eating a picnic lunch, and singing and dancing the night away at the Bank Bar (a local cowboy watering hole), in Wilsall, Montana.

During this time there was a full moon and though I was pretty spent from camping, I found time to take a few photos. My previously mentioned partner in crime, Melanie Malia, helped me wander out into the moonlight to take some photos with the Pew’s lovely grey horse. Just as we were starting to get our rhythm, “Bill” the notorious beast of a dog, came and did a fine job of chasing the horses away. As everyone who was there can attest, the name “Bill” on the ranch is generally said at full volume and followed by some sort of accusation or negative…. “BILL… NOOOO BILL… NO BILL… BAD DOG BILL… STOP THAT BILL… BIIIIILLLLLL!!!!!!!!”

Once Bill was content with the horse situation, he lay down in the road and happily watched us finish the shoot. As I have mentioned before, I have a very hard time working in full-moon light. The conditions are very similar to working in daylight and present a huge challenge when working alone. It’s a bit like being on a fully lit stage with no script, set, or props, and told to just do something cool. Inevitably, whatever you do ends up feelinging a bit contrived and awkward. Personally, I feel this way about these images, but I have also had some good response to the work, so I feel like I am close to something new. In the next post I will go into some of what I learned in my workshop with Arno Minkenen… as I try for a breakthrough.

Goblin Valley

Well hello there, long time no posting…

So, it has been a while since I got on here and posted some new work. Between getting back from Burning Man, packing my whole house in storage, and moving to San Miguel de Allende, Mexico, things have been a bit crazed. Never fear though, I have been working a lot and have some exciting new work to put up over the next few days. Aloyse came down for a week to visit during the full moon, even with the rainy hurricane Jova weather we still managed to get some terrific new images. First things first though, I still have one shoot I did on the way home from Burning Man that I never got around to posting.

One of my favorite places on the planet is this bizarre spot in the middle of the deserts of Utah. Named Goblin Valley, for its unusual sandstone rock formations, I can truly say this place is one of the world’s most magical and psychedelic locations. I have been coming to Goblin Valley since I was about sixteen, and my friends would be surprised to see the new pay station, on grounds ranger housing, and full campground. The cat may be out of the bag. Fortunately, we were still able to drive right into the park at night and “illegally” run around in the moonlight.

Getting to Goblin Valley was the end of a great adventure. We had had a long few weeks of road tripping across the American west, and when all was said and done we had traveled over 4000 miles. Accompanied by my great friend Angelo Valenzuela, we had driven from Colorado to Las Vegas, Palm Springs, Los Angeles, and Black Rock City, now were slowly retracing our steps towards home. As we crossed the desolate strip of highway between Salina and Green River, Utah, I watched the moon traversing the mackerel sky, illuminating the vast desert emptiness. Slowing heading for the horizon, I was concerned we would not get there in time to use the moon’s natural light. As we pulled in to the parking lot, the moon was low, but on an angle that was reminiscent of the “golden hour” just before sunset.

The night was cold, and I was afraid that shooting naked might be miserable, but once disrobed, I adapted quickly and felt comfortable enough. I climbed up on to the rocks and went through the usual static poses. Then something happened. I became a four-legged alien monster creature. Always looking for new directions and growth, this seems like a very fun interesting avenue for exploration.

Goblin Valley is a truly bizarre and amazing place. Wherever you look there are rocks and towers that resemble everything from falaces to faces. In the second image, if you look at the rock, you can see the profile of a face, leering at me in the dark. After shooting in the first three locations, the clouds began to move in and the light became obscure, so I pointed the camera directly at the moon. At this time, Angleo decided to jump in to the photo and we got a wonderful backlit image.

On the way back to the car, the moon set, the clouds really came in and we didn’t have much of a flashlight. Suddenly, we became wildly disoriented. Goblins reared out of the darkness, and I was irrationally terrified. Although Goblin Valley is not large enough to really get lost, that moment of panic was an amazing experience. After a few frightening moments, we retraced our steps, and were able to find the truck. The campsite was full, so we parked a few miles away, and fell asleep pretzeled together in the front seat.

Temple of Transition

I am going to acknowledge another less successful attempt in my photography. At Burning Man this year, the most impressive art piece was certainly the “Temple of Transition.” In years past, the Temple was this really spooky place you visited, left an offering, and got the hell outta there. Even though previous temples had been incredibly beautiful, they were certainly not the hub of action that this year’s temple turned out to be.

My first close view of the temple happened from an art car manned by the Piñata’s Revenge Camp. We cruised around the magnificent structure at sunset as the earth harp was being played for the masses gathered below. The great sky changed color every few minutes from pinks to purples and finally blues. It was really something, something sacred and special, and something I wanted to come back and photograph. I kept putting off shoots for various reasons, eventually choosing the night of The Man burn.

I arrived early and sat around for a while as the sun dropped behind the horizon and it became dark enough to do long exposures. The problem with sunsets and sunrises is that they happen so quickly and the light changes so fast that you are constantly readjusting your camera settings to keep the same basic exposure. It is a real pain, and if you are me, you normally go out without a specific game plan, and things don’t always go so well. I ended up standing with the backlit temple behind me, which was beautiful but left me a dark blackness in which to work. Without a front light source I was too dark to see, so I tried to light myself with two very bright flashlights and that was pretty much a failure. The composition is pretty awful as well, as I am standing central and static in front of the temple and not engaging with my surroundings, sort of an alien tourist at the temple image.

I was trying to achieve this “many armed goddess” thing by dragging the light over my arms in different places; it kind of worked, and might be great in the future but not here. By the time I started to explore, the light was gone and we were going to be late for The Man burn. We abandoned the shoot, and I came away from the burn without any new images. Disappointing in retrospect, but sometimes that is just the way of things. These are the results: nothing special, but as this blog is not only about success but the learning process I feel the need to post what I captured. (No worries though, the next shoot kicks ass!) Click on the images for a larger view.

The Suspicious August Full Moon

So, I guess is deserve a spanking. I have had three photo shoots since the last time I posted, but no blogging. Sometimes life (Burning Man) gets in the way, but I am back and I will try to share some insights on each shoot.

The “Make Mistakes” crew held the August full moon party, up Left Hand Canyon, just above Boulder, CO. The party was about an hour and a half drive from my house in Denver and turned out to be quite the debacle of a night. I arrived to a dark disorienting scene of tents, people, bonfires, and loud house music scattered though a shadowy aspen grove. Winding through the whole area was a small, shallow stream. I had been really sick all week and was finally starting to feel better, so I thought going out for a few hours would be harmless.

I rolled my camera bag, the quarter mile from my car, down the pavement to the entrance and stashed it under a tree. My initial explorations led me down a well-worn footpath that followed the edge of the stream away from the party. Moonlight was filtering through the Aspens and pooling on the forest floor in a way that made my eyes jump and have a hard time adjusting to the darkness. I felt dizzy and light headed. Soon, I had wandered far enough to no longer hear the music, and was mostly alone except for the occasional explorative partier like myself. The area was strangely un-deserted and had some ax murderer hunting cabins and a 60’s geodesic dome house, complete with barking dog. I felt all the hairs on my neck stand on end as I passed.

Eventually, I heard the sound of a small waterfall, and knew I had found the place for which I was looking. Earlier that week, I had seen the proof sheet of new work my collaborator Aloyse Blair had just created in the Adirondacks. She was naked in a waterfall, and had done some long exposure stuff with her pinhole camera. I returned to the party, retrieved my equipment, and quickly found myself laying naked in a freezing mountain stream on a cool summer night. The spot was shaded from the moon so I had to use some alternative light sources. The flashlights I had kept flickering and slowly fading, so it was hard to get an accurate light reading. Some of the images were ruined because the light completely went out during the shot. After a few tries, I decided to put an orange filter on one of the lights just to add softness to the image.

Once I was thoroughly freezing, and could not take the cold any longer, I dressed in green and headed off to do some pure moon light shots. I found a small meadow further up and created the forest nymph series. These images were pretty much exactly what I know how to do, so they were easy to create once I decided how I wanted them to look.

After I finished shooting, I felt clear and fresh. All of the disorientation had vanished, and I was light and focused. I found some friends and went to dance. Soon I was hot enough to take off my jacket and boogie down. A few minutes later I looked over to see that my jacket had vanished. My car keys were in the pocket. I spent the rest of the night futilely searching in the dark for a black jacket. I was flashing everyone who walked by, hoping someone had accidentally borrowed my nice North Face. My night of a few hours ended with the sunrise. As it grew light, I sat down in a fancy camping chair at the entrance to scope out the patrons as they left, hoping for a glimpse of my coat. After a little while, I started to fidget with stuff in the built in cup holders. I looked down and there were my car keys and my glasses. Only in Boulder can you go to a full moon party and get your jacket stolen, but the thief is kind enough to leave you your keys and glasses behind. Needless to say, I got sick again.

Valdovino, Spain or Surfing with the Seekers

Back In Madrid, I think I could live here. This is such a sweet city. I have been out on the Celtic coast of Galicia for the past week, surfing with my old friend Marilyn Poon at the Seeker Surf Camp. It felt so good to be in the water again (even if we did have to wear full wetsuits). Getting into Madrid was such a temperature shock today. Galicia is pretty cold and windy for the most part, and today it was really a gloomy drizzly Irish day. By contrast, Madrid is hot, I mean really hot, I think it was around 35c today. This temperature thing really played into how few images I made while I was at the coast, not to mention I was totally exhausted after surfing all day. There was also the daylight factor, as Galicia really does not get dark in the summer until 11:30 at night. By that time, we were eating dinner and falling into bed, dead to the world.

I was feeling pretty lousy about not making any images, so last night I grabbed Marilyn, just at twilight and went out to the beach right in front of the house. This big sandy beach is in the tiny town of Valdovino, and although that is what most people call this beach, its official name is Praia de Frouxeira. The tides were swinging really high and low, and we just happened to be out there during low tide, so we were able to get some really nice images with the reflections in the tide pools on the sand. Not to mention that we were able to get really close to the tiny island of Percebelleira. Known for this strange edible barnacle, the Percebes, or “pinky finger.” I missed out on trying this delicacy, but maybe when we are back up north in the Basque country, I will run across a few.

It felt good to be on the beach, and it was actually the warmest night of all. For which I was very thankful. I think we got some really nice images, and I am happy with the outcome. I even reverted back to what I have now deemed the “ghost dances.” I have had some resistance to these images, but I am really drawn to them. I like getting out there, dancing and moving, it feels so natural and yet ritualistic. They are not nearly as static as some of my images, which have a different kind of rooted strength.

Tomorrow my sister comes, and I have no idea if I will be making many more images on this trip. We shall see. (P.S. If you don’t already know, just click on the images to get a full sized view)

Explored Exposure – Janelle Pietrzak

Mysterious Fine Art Photography

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