An alien landscape here on Earth

Last week, after ten months of anticipation and planning, I attended my first IAAA artist workshop, in California’s quintessential analog of extraterrestrial landscapes, Death Valley National Park. I brought a brand-new pochade box and easel, a backpack stuffed with art supplies, my husband Nate, and a gas-powered blender (more on that in a bit.) We had not, however, prepared for snow in Death Valley, nor two days of snow-driving, all the way north through Nevada and back home to Oregon.

My week hanging with fellow space-nerd/artist peeps was extraordinary. It feels so cliché to use a phrase like “sitting at the feet of the masters”, but that truly is how it felt, listening to Rick Sternbach and Don Davis talk about their art- and model-work for Carl Sagan on COSMOS, a show that profoundly influenced me as a child. (I can’t hear the opening music without tearing up, it hits at such a deep emotional level.) I’ve also never been among so many artists, all at once. Our last day, on account of the rain, most of us stayed in the conference room, making art, appreciating each other’s art, and observing their process. What a wonderful creative wellspring, flowing in a literal desert!

Death Valley is home to multitudes of striking geomorphological features1, making it great both for the scientist seeking to understand things imaged by spacecraft on other planets, and the artist hoping to illustrate what we may see on planets, moons, and asteroids yet unexplored. It’s also a profoundly alien environment, full of juxtaposed formations and vivid colorations. It truly looks otherworldly. Deserts are a beautiful desolation, unlike anything else (and terribly compelling, at least to me.)

My favorite night of the workshop was our barbecue and star-party at Zabriskie Point, which was hampered by cold, windy conditions and partly-cloudy skies. Our fearless leaders made the best of it, cooking burgers and hot dogs in the tiny kitchen of their rental RV, the “Mothership”. (The star-party, alas, was canceled due to poor seeing and telescope-threatening gusts.)

When the cookout night came up initially, I mentioned that, amongst my dad’s Burning Man supplies, we found his Tailgator, which is essentially a blender cup sitting on a gas-powered weed-eater motor, complete with pull-start and throttle. He had written “Mad Marshal’s Margaritas”2 on the front with Sharpie. (After cleaning it, I reapplied the letters, and added “Ride Eternal, Shiny & Chrome” with his birth and death years, as a little memorial.) The workshop attendees loved the idea of a “margarita machine”, so we duly brought said Tailgator, mixer and tequila with us. (Yes, you can buy ice in Death Valley. You can also buy ice cream. Just sayin’.)

At first, the cold and wind kept most attendees inside the Mothership, but after a round of drinks appeared, more people came out for a peek at what the racket was. “I thought it was a chainsaw!” (And thus, Chainsaw Margaritas were born.) By the end, we had a crowd cheering as Nate revved and blended, I poured, and Kara (IAAA Treasurer) distributed. It was bitingly cold for frozen drinks, but I can’t think of a recent time when my heart felt quite so warm, nor my dad so close in spirit.

It even inspired a sketch by one of the attendees, gifted to me on the last day:

I saw a lot of incredible art last week, met some truly amazing folks, and reveled in nature’s color palette and artistry. It was Nate’s first trip to Death Valley, and only my second, and we had a wonderful time exploring. (I also gave geology briefings each morning to the attendees, who peppered me with excellent questions each day and sent me scrambling for answers. Dusted a few cobwebs off my geology degree, that’s for sure!)

I’m full of inspiration, with lots of source photos and memories, so that’s an A+ vacation in my book! Expect to see new things on my website and in the shop soon!

Until next time, I remain quite possibly the nerdiest person you know, or at least in the top three,

Danielle 💜