Breasts of the Desert

The mountains near here really do look like breasts – some of them are even topped with trees or stones which resemble nipples. I remember once back in the late 70’s while driving to Tombstone with my cousins from Phoenix that one of them said all the hills were tits, which meant that the local landscape was female.
As we travel around here now, that femaleness is even more pronounced. We can assume that in thirty years more erosion has occurred.
In my drawings I do tend to play up that quality. This drawing has a breast with a pronounced nipple – but it also represents a hill not too far from my house, one that I drive past with some frequency. I say it represents that hill because it is not drawn from a photograph, or drawn on site. I draw from a combination of imagination and memory, so what this depicts is a memory of that hill, enhanced both by imagination and a touch of mysticism. When I’m drawing, I enter a semi-meditative state where the things I draw resonate with a certain symbolism.
I often don’t see that same symbolism when the drawing is finished, which means that if I don’t write down the meanings and impressions soon after making an image, I will forget what I intended while I was drawing or painting. In these cases, as with this case, all that remains in the end is the emotional response I have to the image.

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