12" by12" Printed on recycled paper.
The first time I passed through the desert was in 2011, headed out to grad school in the Bay Area. We camped in the Mojave. It was magical and haunting. For many reasons. Including the legacy of European settler colonialism. 
The second time was on the way back to Oakland after a residency in New Orleans. I swore it would be my last year away from the south. We stayed in Las Cruses, New Mexico. I remember the dread I felt as we came closer to the city. I went outside at night in Cruces, and I could hear the silence. It met a need I couldn't have named. But it shook me, stayed with me, drew me back to the desert over and over.
I've hear the loudness of the silence many times now. Over the hill at the back of the cemetery in Madrid NM, in the Gila National Forest, on the country drive to a friends house in silver city. This emptiness feeds me. Makes room for calmness to flood in. Reassures me. Allows for a deeper listening and awareness. 
This print is tribute to the first night I spent in New Mexico