Showing posts with label Petroglyphs. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Petroglyphs. Show all posts

01 October 2026

Ghosts Now and Then

"Forgetting, in itself, remakes landscapes, as we privilege some assemblages over others. Yet ghosts remind us.  Ghosts point to our forgetting, showing us how living landscapes are imbued with earlier tracks and traces."  —Gan et al.

Above this rock outcrop, this wall of stone, an ephemeral playa lake pulses. In the High Lakes country of Lake County.  The playa, decades ago dammed by the big cattle outfit operating in Warner basin. This pooling of the playa enabled cattle to graze into the summer.  

Once I hiked in as some fellows, rifles poised, were leaving the playa in a quad, heading back to the highway. I discovered a freshly shot marmot on a rock rim above some petroglyphs on the stones edging the playa. 

Another time, a coyote dashed out of hiding out into the middle of the playa, turned around and barked at me. Then trotted on their way. Each being — in death and in living — conjures desire and absence. All ghosts now. You, too, and me, how so? 

How do we count time out here?  Still the nights and days come and go. As do the spiky stars and the luminous moon. Clocking what we don’t know.

"As artists, we conjure magical figures, weave speculative fictions, animate feral and partial connections. We necessarily stumble. And try again. With every mark, difference haunts and struggles to appear anew." —Gan et al.

—Quotes from the Introduction to Ghosts on a Damaged Planet. In Arts of Living on a Damaged Planet, editors:  Anna Tsing, Heather Swanson, Elaine Gan, and Nils Bubandt, 2017.

14 September 2026

Geometries of Emptiness

The geometry of the Universe, it's inherent structure, is a dynamic entity, that deforms, ripples, twists, and, as some places, sinks. It all depends on the energy and matter that fills it. 
—Ersilia Vaudo

Near ground-level, three discrete petroglyphs in close proximity on the north side of a low canyon wall. I wonder as I kneel to take the pictures:  what, rather how, is the meaning of these deceptively simple yet unusual geometrics? Visionary? Experimental? Messages? I won’t know intent, though I sense a presence.

Susan Murphy takes us deeper: 
Who is this person who genuinely wonders, Who? as they write, or read, or walk, or talk? The vast emptiness that walks about upright in a human form—bones, flesh, hair, eyes, hands, feet—and feels waves of loneliness, desire, boredom, fear, overwhelming joy ... who is this? Easy responses die fast and something else opens up, a rich and productive form of silence that is strangely embracing and unflappable, when that question is simple and steadily held.

 
The ephemeral rock-well at the terminus of the low canyon, carved in bedrock through various ice ages past… to be continued.

NOTES
—Ersilia Vaudo in The Story of Astrophysics in Five Revolutions (2025, trans Italian)
—Susan Murphy in Red Thread Zen: humanly entangled in emptiness (2016)
—Photos:  DB, Lake County, Oregon, September 2026
—Vaudo adds, quoting American physicist John Wheeler:

"Spacetime tells matter how to move; matter tells spacetime how to curve.”

23 August 2026

Animates: The Lives of Stone

I have pictured sets of photographs, finite and free
—Anna Moschovakis

Center: classic lizard-anthropomorph. Upper: sketchy bighorn sheep. Lower right: faint figure grasping a waving line of power. Far left: Ambiguous possible birthing figure.


Below: Context of the above figure. A split boulder.

Minimalist figures ecstatic in the landscape.

Below: Detail.

Unusual man-figure, on a boulder in the playascape.

Above:  Petroglyph as a six-toed grizzly bear paw print. Six-toed, a strange and not uncommon appearance.


Below:  Lizard-toadmorph petroglyph in crevice.

Animates:  Figures in stone in motion. Along a desiccated playa lake in southeast Oregon.

Note:  Descriptions arbitrary;  these beings animate their own lives, before and after our fleeting appearance. Enjoy these moments...

 

CODA

 

Wake up.

The wind is not for seeing,

neither is the first

song, soon half-

way gone,

and the figures,

the figures are not waiting.

To see what is

in motion you must move.

—Susan Stewart

12 August 2026

Night of Stone II

An environment eternal:  this place of water in the desert attracted travelers, seekers, through thousands of years of solidity and change… Seeking resolve, resolve in seeing with the night of stone.  A mineral landscape of erosion, adherence and deposition.  


Then, the cutting through, the exposure of the light in the stone. The old atomic knowing.  The night of stone wavers, shadows the inevitable departure.  


Sparks, marks, made, signaling to and from, to and fro, involute, the universe, Indra's jeweled net.

CODA

The Tao is infinite, eternal.

Why is it eternal?

It was never born;

thus it can never die.

Why is it infinite?

It has no desires for itself;

thus it is present for all beings.


The Master stays behind;

that is why she is ahead.

She is detached from all things;

that is why she is one with them.

Because she has let go of herself,

she is perfectly fulfilled.


TAO TE CHING

—Translated by Stephen Mitchell

NOTES

—Photos above from the rock rim pictured in the July 21 2026 post:  The Night of Stone.  Harney County, Oregon, with good fortune for fellow travelers, photos by DB. 


21 July 2026

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)

27 May 2026

Vast emptiness, nothing holy



Wuzu, teacher of Yuanwu who compiled the Blue Cliff Record, said this about "Vast emptiness, nothing holy":
"If you can just see into this vast emptiness, nothing holy, then you can return home and sit in peace."

Return home. Sit in peace. It's vast like the night sky last night blazing with stars, blazing with ten billion bright particulars. 
(All text from Susan Murphy, see Notes below)
And don't be misled by "nothing holy," don't fail to hear the fire running through it.
There is a fire that runs through all things and "nothing holy" is the road to seeing it. 
Curiously if nothing indeed is holy, then everything is endowed with completeness, sacredness; everything matters. 
There is nothing that is not sacred. All is blessed. Everything counts.
Can you feel how this is so? 
Where does it leave you in the actual living of your life? 
How do you meet this “nothing holy"? 
How do you meet this quality of It is Unknown.
 
There is Unknownness, right here.
NOTES
— Susan Murphy Roshi is founding teacher of Zen Open Circle in Sydney, Australia. Her latest book is A Fire Runs Through All Things: Zen Koans for Facing the Climate Crisis. Words above from her essay "A Thousand Miles the Same Mood" in the edited volume The Book of Mu (James Ishmael Ford and Melissa Myozen Blacker, eds.)
— Photos:  A small spring and rock rim in SE Oregon’s High Lakes country east of Warner Basin, May 2026, Douglas Beauchamp.   With gratitude to fellow travelers Bryan Andresen and Phil Gordon. 
Return home. Sit in peace.