Hands, Reaching

Consider the splayed human hand, dipped in ochre or paint and pressed against any firm surface-cave wall, church wall, school wall, rock wall. … this universal hand mark … presented at full stretch … is radiant, reaching out from its singular base to establish the eternally mysterious space of just where it is. It confirms presence while not engaged or proclaimed in directing or manipulating anything at all. It is empty-handed presence.
    —Susan Murphy

How can it be that we only live once— 

the body constantly wishing for 

what only the hands can do: reach 

and grasp, reach and grasp. Something 

like the foaling of eternity, born 

and reborn on spindles. 

    —Keetje Kuipers

NOTES

—Hand prints on stone, Owens River Valley, Inyo County, CA. Photos: DB, 2026

—Keetje Kuipers, from the poem For All The Dead Lovelies from her collection The Keys to The Jail (2014)

—Susan Murphy, an Australian Zen teacher, from A Fire Runs Through All Things: Zen Koans for Facing the Climate Crisis — Teachings on Earth, Mind & Not Knowing (2023). 

—Albert Camus to Maria Casarès, June 1944. From Mon Cher Amour: The Love Letters of Albert Camus and Maria Casarès, 1944–1959 (trans from the French, 2026)

CODA

When someone has a soul, they tend to call what frustrates them lucidity, and what eludes them, truth. But that lucidity is just as blind as anything else. There is only one type of clairvoyance: the kind that wants to grasp at happiness. And I know that, even though it might be short-lived, endangered or fragile, happiness awaits us, if we reach out our hands. But we must reach out our hands. 

    —Albert Camus to Maria Casarès, June 1944.

(Maria Casarès and Albert Camus met in Paris on June 6, 1944, the day the Allies landed in Normandy. She was 21; he was 30. His last letter to her was December 30, 1959. On January 4, 1960 Albert Camus was killed in a car accident on his way back to Paris.)

The Night of Stone

Rock rim exposes, shadows, faces south.  This place of water in desert attracted travelers, seekers, in thousands of years of solidity and change.  I slept once on this rim. A rough and lucid night as I dreamed of the ancient ones in visitation. An allowance emerged from their wisdom.
To make pictures of the glyphs, the markings, aims to respect the deep intent of their presence. As they — the makers and the markings — invoke the spirit of place. Perhaps seeking resolve in seeing with the night of stone. In the light of day.

 

This collection of images considers one section of complexity of rock and petroglyphs at this place of power.  Moving in closer, then moving away.   

CODA
From the Chilean master Pablo Neruda:
 
To harden the earth
the rocks took charge:
instantly
they grew wings:
the rocks
that soared:
the survivors
flew up
the lightning bolt,
screamed in the night,
a watermark,
a violet sword,
a meteor.
The succulent
sky
had not only clouds,
not only space smelling of oxygen,
but an earthly stone
flashing here and there
changed into a dove,
changed into a bell,
into immensity, into a piercing
wind:
into a phosphorescent arrow,
into salt of the sky.

—Pablo Neruda, from Stones of the Sky. 
(1970, trans James Nolan 1987, Copper Canyon Press)

Ovoid as Vulva, Abstracted

Will our life not be a tunnel 
between two vague clarities?

Or will it not be a clarity 
between two dark triangles?
    —Pablo Neruda

Georgia Lee considers the pecked ovoid:  “a type of petroglyph, like the pit and groove, is found in many other areas. They are generally believed to be abstracted vulva signs.”

Two photos above:  Death Valley. 

  Two photos below:   Mono County.  

Lee notes: “According to McGowan, they probably are the most common and most universally recognized female fertility symbol.  Not all vulva signs are pecked ovoids; they take other forms, such as horseshoe shapes, wedge shapes, and bisected ovals.”

And further, citing Lee:  “Such symbols were more than simply ‘sexual’ depictions. As Marshack pointed out, depictions of the vulva became, over time, isolated, abstracted, and loaded with symbolic meaning. … Thus, rather than a narrow symbol of eroticism or anatomical study, vulva symbols had a more comprehensive aspect; they stood for concepts, stories, myths, processes.”

How does an image abstracted bear such a weight of symbolic meaning?

First, an embracing definition of abstraction:  The result of mentally abstracting an idea; the product of any mental process involving a synthesis of: separation, despecification, generalization, and ideation in any of a number of combinations. (Wiktionary)

Two photos, above and below:  El Paso Mountains 

Second, Charline von Heyl, a German abstract painter, emphasizes, almost Rilke-like, the force of thing itself:   “the ability of an abstract image to function as a fact—not as an illustration, representation, or evocation but with the force of the thing itself, be it a feeling that comes on sharp and sudden, an emotion that seeps in and aches, or an idea that generates an entire architecture of forms to be understood, and then only fleetingly, as the scaffolding falls away.” —Artforum

 

NOTES
—Pablo Neruda, from The Book of Questions, trans William O’Daly.
—Georgia Lee, "The Rock Art of Soxtonocmu, an Inland Chumash Village" in the Journal of California and Great Basin Anthropology, 1981 3(1).
Available:  https://escholarship.org/uc/item/8pt4v2wk
—Kaelen Wilson-Goldie reviewing Charline von Heyl, Nov 2013, in Artforum.
—Also:  https://rockartoregon.blogspot.com/2025/01/tufa.html
—Photos:   Douglas Beauchamp, Mono and Inyo counties, Eastern California
—Above: Charline von Heyl painting. Oil/acrylic/charcoal on canvas; 82x78 inches. Blacksmile: “An abstract painting characterized by layered shapes and surface tensions rather than direct representation.” 

Solstice Dreaming

I dreamed among the ice caps long ago,
Ranging with the sun on the inward slope,
Down the wheel of seasons and the solstices.
                —N Scott Momaday from Prairie Hymn

Summer Solstice 2026: A watery dream accelerates as the ice melts. This Earth, a place of stone, knows molten density. Knows solar intensity. Thinking to and fro, this boat rocking through gateless sky. What do we know?

 

Photo: Petroglyph, detail. High Lakes, Lake County, Oregon. Douglas Beauchamp. 

 

CODA
What follows the light is what precedes it:
the moment of balance, of dark equivalence.
            —Louise Glück from the poem Solstice

Yocum Valley: Ancient Carved Stone

Ancient deeply-carved stone with double circles and a mortar lies fallen and half-buried in Yocum Valley.  

This marks a place with a few other old carvings and dozens of bedrock mortars and metates. Below, a nearby boulder with deep carvings and notchings.

Lichen-covered and in shadow, this deeply carved boulder holds a complex of interconnected circles. Swartz in 1960 used aluminum powder to enable a photo for a study published in American Antiquity in 1963.  Later he conceded using aluminum powder is not recommended due to possible damage.

 

The Lorings in their Yocum Valley site entry provided a 1970 sketch that may have been based on Swartz's study.

Photo below shows a detail the bumpy surface and notching of the boulder.

A resource-rich wetland on the border of Oregon and NE California, the wide Yocum Valley is the headwaters of Willow Creek which becomes Lost River near Clear Lake. Lost River, ancestral home of the Modocs, weaves its way to the terminal Tule Lake. 

 

Photos by Douglas Beauchamp from three visits over several years, most recently May 2026. 

Below, boulder with a grinding mortar sits in the open wetland valley.

 

CODA
We are here to become water again,
to dissolve in circles, trillions of unique grails,
on our way back through past lives,
back to algae, froth rot,
the foam of our ancestral future,
the ancient return.
— Carrie Ivy, from her poem QUEEN OF CUPS