A Mindful Weekend In The Mojave Desert, part 2

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Last weekend I escaped the craziness in Las Vegas, and along with my dog I went for a zen weekend in the desert. To me it seemed like the perfect thing to do, before Christmas. I shared some photos in my last post. Here is some more of my favorite photos from that weekend.

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The Mojave Desert is a harsh, but very spiritual, place. It’s as much a matrix as anything else in my life has been. Growing up in the desert has a different gestalt than growing up in a temperate zone, with its humidity and rainfall. As children growing up in the Mojave, we chased lizards and snakes, instead of frogs and squirrels. There is an arid openness about it, and a true feeling of being alone, that you don’t get in any other type of environment.
James Stanford, Shimmering Zen

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I did several hikes last weekend, but this was one of the most memorable ones.

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The gestalt of living in the desert, surrounded by the desert, was a big influence in my life and in the lives of other artists in this community. There are many artists and musicians who grew up as lonely kids in the desert with nothing to do, and who chose to channel their focus inward. In the Mojave Desert, numinous, mystical experiences are not as rare as one might think. The numinous is a part of the whole artistic experience for the desert artist.  James Stanford

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James Stanford is a local contemporary artist that I admire. I think it was fitting to match some things he have said about living in Mojave, to my photos from last weekend.

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I’m going to let this beautiful Buckhorn Cholla be the last photo for this time. I hope your Christmas was fabulous! My daughter arrived safely, and it was a Christmas filled with love, laughter, good food, and a trip to Mount Charleston. Yes, we did see some wild horses too.

Love,

Ms Zen

 

14 thoughts on “A Mindful Weekend In The Mojave Desert, part 2

  1. Thank you for the beautiful photos. We’ve lived in Tucson for the past five years and the Sonoran Desert has become my sanctuary. I hike there to think, I hike there to not think and I hike there to restore my faith in life. There’s nothing like seeing a family of Harris’ hawks soaring or a 150 year old saguaro standing sentinel over the desert floor. It’s early morning as I write this, and I stopped to listen to a pack of coyotes barking at the clear morning sky. Go well, David

    Liked by 1 person

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