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Grand Wash Cliffs

Storms of afternoon color
Paint across your face.
Desert beauty
Time study
Love in the likeness
of grace.
CKS

L642

Grand Wash Cliffs
Meadview, Arizona
Family
Back side of the Grand Canyon


The Grand Wash Cliffs exit the Grand Canyon, where the Colorado River enters Lake Mead. They are the southwestern perimeter, of the Colorado Plateau (source, Wikipedia).  And, I love them!  The North Rim of the Grand Canyon is particular beautiful and less traveled.  The South Rim of the Grand Canyon is what I would call the traditional access; with far more population and tourists visiting.

According to the National Park Website this land has been continually inhabited for at least 12,000 years.  Learn more by visiting Archaeological Resources on the Park’s Website.  You can see fascinating “Split-Twig Figurines”, dated 2,00 – 4,000 years old, made from a single (willow) twig, split down the middle and made into animal figures.

Afternoons are particularly romantic.  The sun casts dazzling light across the cliffs and inch by inch, brilliant colors illuminate before you.  Moments filled with energetic stillness of awe and desire.

Here I catch a storm rolling in with light splash-dazing the rock-cliff.  This tiny painting is hardly larger than a postage stamp.  Holding it in your hand, it radiates the grace and peace of place.  Dirt beneath your feet, Joshua Trees to your left and to your right; wide sky blanketing above.

Happy Birthday National Park Service!  This year our National Park Service turns 100 years old!  #FindYourPark and help preserve and enjoy!

paint much love, always,
Connie Karleta Sales
a.k.a. This Crooked Little Flower


*Grand Wash Cliffs, Meadview, Arizona, 3/4″ x 1″, ink, pigment, charcoal, graphite, paper, ©CKS

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The Object

Hungry, very hungry;
she is locked in a mind
that does not always
belong to her.
CKS

(excerpt from The Object)

Brave House Secrets
Mirror Observation
Memory Meditation


She bears the burdens of her experiences while being annihilated with love.  She is the unacceptable object.  She is truth staring at the everyday.  She is an object on display.  She is me as I look into the mirror and sense the long ago shame creeping out the skin of my today.

paint much love, always,
Connie Karleta Sales
a.k.a. This Crooked Little Flower


*the object, 34″ x 24″, ink, pigment, charcoal, graphite, paper, ©CKS 2013 (sold)

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Aspen Love

Memento of two;
lovers’ whispers;
gentle delighting.
CKS

L145

Aspen grove
Intimate moment
Spring Morning


I believe this tiny painting is the foreshadow of great love.

Aspens grow in colonies from a single seed.  Often they are seen as evidence of ancient woodlands, because their root systems can live for thousands of years.  Another beautiful fact; Aspen colonies are able to survive forest fires, because their root systems are below the heat of the fires.

Caught in awe one day walking among Aspens in Idaho, I felt the weight of the many as the morning light danced across these two trees; catching their kiss in conversation, they allowed me in, and so I danced too.

Here I was feeling family; generational love; grounded through life’s heat in the good and the difficult.

paint much love, always,
Connie Karleta Sales
a.k.a. This Crooked Little Flower


*Aspen Love, 2″ x 1 1/4″, ink, acrylic, pastel, graphite, charcoal, cotton, ©CKS

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Succor Creek

Desert Cliffs
with Sun-drenched festivals
of light cascading.
CKS

L352

Spring View
Cliffs at Succor Creek
Oregon


My husband introduced me to Succor Creek and Leslie’s Gulch, Oregon.  It is the High Desert landscape located not far from the Idaho border.

If you time it just right, you will see the desert flowers blooming in the spring before the sandy dry colors of yellow overwhelm the landscape.

Here, the flowers are not yet in bloom.  The desert she is preparing.  It was a lovely brisk day with green sprinkled within the dance of sun and cliffs.

paint much love, always,
Connie Karleta Sales
a.k.a. This Crooked Little Flower


*Succor Creek, Oregon, 1 1/4″ x 3 1/8″, ink, pastel, graphite, paper, ©CKS