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rockislandadultreads · 2 years ago

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2022 Horror Picks: Recs from your Friendly Librarian

A Black and Endless Sky by Matthew Lyons

Road trips can be hell. Siblings Jonah and Nell Talbot used to be inseparable, but ever since Jonah suddenly blew town twelve years ago, they couldn’t be more distant. Now, in the wake of Jonah’s divorce, they embark on a cross-country road trip back to their hometown of Albuquerque, hoping to mend their broken relationship along the way. But when a strange accident befalls Nell at an abandoned industrial site somewhere in the Nevada desert, she begins experiencing ghastly visions and exhibiting terrifying, otherworldly symptoms. As their journey through the desolate American Southwest reveals the grotesque change happening within his sister, one thing becomes clear to Jonah: It’s not only Nell in there anymore. Pursued by a mysterious stranger who knows far more about Nell’s worsening condition than they let on, the siblings race to find a way to help Nell and escape the desert before they’re met with a violent, bloody end. But there are far worse things lurking in the desert ahead... some of them just beneath the skin.

The Hacienda by Isabel Cañas

In the overthrow of the Mexican government, Beatriz’s father is executed and her home destroyed. When handsome Don Rodolfo Solórzano proposes, Beatriz ignores the rumors surrounding his first wife’s sudden demise, choosing instead to seize the security his estate in the countryside provides. She will have her own home again, no matter the cost. But Hacienda San Isidro is not the sanctuary she imagined. When Rodolfo returns to work in the capital, visions and voices invade Beatriz’s sleep. The weight of invisible eyes follows her every move. Rodolfo’s sister, Juana, scoffs at Beatriz’s fears—but why does she refuse to enter the house at night? Why does the cook burn copal incense at the edge of the kitchen and mark its doorway with strange symbols? What really happened to the first Doña Solórzano? Beatriz only knows two things for certain: Something is wrong with the hacienda. And no one there will help her. Desperate for help, she clings to the young priest, Padre Andrés, as an ally. No ordinary priest, Andrés will have to rely on his skills as a witch to fight off the malevolent presence haunting the hacienda and protect the woman for whom he feels a powerful, forbidden attraction. But even he might not be enough to battle the darkness. Far from a refuge, San Isidro may be Beatriz’s doom.

The Daughter of Doctor Moreau by Silvia Moreno-Garcia

Carlota Moreau: a young woman, growing up in a distant and luxuriant estate, safe from the conflict and strife of the Yucatán peninsula. The only daughter of either a genius, or a madman. Montgomery Laughton: a melancholic overseer with a tragic past and a propensity for alcohol. An outcast who assists Dr. Moreau with his scientific experiments, which are financed by the Lizaldes, owners of magnificent haciendas and plentiful coffers. The hybrids: the fruits of the Doctor’s labor, destined to blindly obey their creator and remain in the shadows. A motley group of part human, part animal monstrosities. All of them living in a perfectly balanced and static world, which is jolted by the abrupt arrival of Eduardo Lizalde, the charming and careless son of Doctor Moreau’s patron, who will unwittingly begin a dangerous chain reaction. For Moreau keeps secrets, Carlota has questions, and in the sweltering heat of the jungle, passions may ignite. The Daughter of Doctor Moreau is both a dazzling historical novel and a daring science fiction journey.

Sundial by Catriona Ward

You can't escape what's in your blood... All Rob wanted was a normal life. She almost got it, too: a husband, two kids, a nice house in the suburbs. But Rob fears for her oldest daughter, Callie, who collects tiny bones and whispers to imaginary friends. Rob sees a darkness in Callie, one that reminds her too much of the family she left behind. She decides to take Callie back to her childhood home, to Sundial, deep in the Mojave Desert. And there she will have to make a terrible choice. Callie is worried about her mother. Rob has begun to look at her strangely, and speaks of past secrets. And Callie fears that only one of them will leave Sundial alive… The mother and daughter embark on a dark, desert journey to the past in the hopes of redeeming their future.

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notanotherbookreview · 6 years ago

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My Life With John Steinbeck by Gwyn Conger Steinbeck Chapter 5 excerpt -Men Cannot Read Maps Gwyn and John on the road again- Route 66

Throughout his life, John continually showed me that he was a man with a drive and energy that was remarkable and a determination that was unbelievable. Anyone who succeeds in life has to have a complete determination as well as talent. John was a powerhouse of single mindedness.

The summer of 1942 we prepared to leave a hot and humid New York for good old California. We ended the lease on the house at Snedens’ Landing. John decided he wanted to take everything with us, including our fine record collection and all our china, and pack it all into his grey-blue 1941 Packard convertible, which he called “Baby.” He called all his cars “Baby.”

“Why don’t we store the china?” I asked. “We’ll take it. We might be living in California and we’ll need it,” he replied. Even then he was not sure what he wanted to do, but his mind was made up about California, and when John made up his mind, that was it, nothing changed it. He built up the back of the car and fixed it so that Willie (our sheepdog) could ride high up and see out; he made it so Willie could be level with our heads. He sat right behind us.

I packed all his files and his clothes and he packed the car. We had a heated discussion over how to pack the records, some five hundred dollars’ worth of records. He packed them all one way, and I told him he should alternate, a hard end one side and then a hard end the other side. He became angry. When anyone argued with John, it was like talking to a brick wall. He was so adamant that I left him to it.

He piled the records on the floor and our luggage on top, and the rug on top of that for dear Willie. The unfortunate thing was that he had the luggage we were going to use from night to night packed in the trunk! “How are we going to have fresh underwear and other necessities?” I asked. We had a few choice words over that, very choice. “To hell with it,” he blasted at me. “You can last with what you have on until we get to Wake Robin!”

That was that! Wake Robin is in Michigan, and it was the home of Paul and Rhea de Kruif, his friends. Why argue, I told myself, it won’t do any good. I grabbed an overnight bag, opened two suitcases, and pulled out two pairs of socks and shorts, a couple of clean shirts and a sweater and put them in the bag. We started out for California early one morning.

It was such a beautiful day as we headed out through the country. After a while we came to an ��Apples for Sale” sign, and he wanted to buy some. He came back with two great big bags of apples, plus a gallon of hard cider. He was as bad as a woman at a white sale! “We won’t stop for breakfast, we’ll eat the apples,” he said. We ate apples all morning. By noon John was feeling sleepy but we kept going and we stopped at some motel in Pennsylvania.

In those days, in the early forties, motels weren’t quite as lenient about taking pets, so poor Willie had to stay in the car all night. That upset us, and we didn’t sleep very well. And the apples worked on both of us all night long, too. Needless to say, it was a restless night. I would get up, throw on some slacks and take Willie for a walk, then take him back to the car and go back to bed after the bathroom. We didn’t get much sleep. Believe it or not, John found some ice and chilled the cider. That was our breakfast. The next day John really pushed the car, and we arrived at Wake Robin exhausted. I had suspected that I was pregnant, but the ride removed that problem and by the time we arrived in Wake Robin it was all over. John was greatly relieved, and so was I.

Wake Robin is a pretty place, and we spent four glorious days and nights there, cooking and drinking with Rhea and Paul, and John and I melted into each other bodies. John also cleaned some guns he had bought and had not told me about. Throughout our relationship and then our married life he always had to have loaded guns around the house. He had this maniacal attraction for possessing all kinds of firearms. Why, I don’t know. Guns create violence, yet in John’s writing there was such a wonderful bond with his fellow human, a feeling that was rich for the land, the sea and its people. There was no great emphasis on violence, just human failings and emotions.

Autumn was on its way and we repacked the car (thanks to Rhea’s support), and again headed west. John kept really pushing that car; he was simply anxious to get to his beloved California where we would stay with my mother and stepfather until we found our own house. I did not drive because I am near sighted. Besides, anyone else driving always made John nervous. Oh, I would relieve him for a while in some of those lonely parts of the desert so he could put his head back. After all, he was pounding out some ten hours a day on the highways. Nothing was going to stop him from getting to Los Angeles as fast as he could.

After we arrived in Albuquerque, New Mexico, he began to complain about his back; he did have a problem with his spine and legs. We decided to relax. “I’ve never been to Sante Fe,” he said. “Let’s go.” Now I love the Southwest, and travelled through it a lot when I was a kid. We stayed in some motel and John poked around the museum. He had a tremendous interest in anything historical, in fact, he was quite a historian. He went to all the Indian art stores and in one found an Indian blanket he liked and bought. That went piling into the car. The weight of “Baby” was something, what with the records, luggage, a ninety pound sheepdog and the two of us. When we hit bumps, and we hit many, we sure did know it! I felt then at any moment the transmission would go. Fortunately, it did not. In Sante Fe John asked me about Taos. “Did you like to hang around that place? How far is it from here?” “About seventy miles.” “Let’s go.” It was as simple as that.

So off we went to Taos, a place steeped in history, the resting place of the legendary Western hero, Kit Carson, and a place where there are many fine reminders of the Old American West, plus a marvellous Spanish restaurant that had been there since I was a child. Taos also has, among other things, a beautiful gorge where the Colorado River begins. John was intrigued with this town. We lunched at the Spanish restaurant where they still made sopaipillas; John had been raised on that kind of food and he ate six for lunch and six more with dinner. John never ran short of an appetite for solids or liquids.

We spent a perfectly wonderful time in Taos. We spent a night in a little hotel off the Plaza where people were nice to Willie. They had never seen an Old English sheepdog, so Willie had a ball, too, with all the Mexican dogs. Dogs are such wonderful animals, often human thinking, and kinder and more loving than many a man or woman. We played around, and were the typical tourists for two days, and then John was his serious self again and anxious to get to Los Angeles.

The only way to get back on Route 66 from Taos is through Sante Fe. We piled into the car and off again we went. John drove like Barnie Oldfield, the race driver, at the wheel, staring ahead as we moved along sixty or seventy miles an hour. If he wanted a cigarette, he just leaned over and patted me on the knee, which meant, “Light me a cigarette.” There was no conversation; that was his signal. Perhaps we might sing together to the radio with me carrying the harmony. After a brief stop in Sante Fe for gas we headed towards Route 66. We had been travelling for some time when I said, quietly, “John, I hate to say this, but I think we took a wrong turn.”

“No we haven’t. I studied the map this morning and we’re going to hit Las Vegas.” “Las Vegas?” I said with surprise. “Yes, I’d like to look it over, see what it’s like” he went on. Politely I said, “Well, I’ve been looking over the land and it doesn’t look familiar to me.” “Well, I studied the map and it says Las Vegas 150 miles, and the map isn’t wrong.”

How could Las Vegas, Nevada, be 150 miles from Santa Fe I asked myself? I shrugged my shoulders. There wasn’t any point in further comment. By this time, Willie was drooling over my neck and pawing me. “I think we’ll have to stop for Willie, darling.” “He’ll have to wait. I want to be in Las Vegas for lunch.”

I kept quiet, although by now I knew it wasn’t the right road. John asked me to reach in the funny box, the glove compartment, and get his dark glasses. I did, and put them on him. “John dear, if we’re heading west, why is the sun in our face and it’s already eight in the morning?” “For God’s sake, I don’t care how many times you’ve gone over this country with your family – I looked at the map!” was his retort.

Actually, we had already gone some ninety-nine miles due east! “I don’t think you know as much about this country as you say you do,” he said. “Want to stop the car and we’ll get out your compass, dear?”

He kind of laughed, but he was mad and drove on. We began to come across funny little towns and then, suddenly there was a sign that read “Las Vegas 25 miles.” “That’s impossible! We’ve only been on the road two hours, and if we’re going due west, how the hell can the sun be in our eyes?” I said. With that, he slammed his hands on the wheel and said, “Goddammit! I’m doing the driving.” “All right, all right,” I said and lapsed into silence.

Soon we came into something as well populated as Los Alamos bombing field – a few shacks and a sign that read, “Welcome to Las Vegas.”

There was never any arguing with John. He was right and I and everyone else were wrong. That was all there was to it. We came to this little town and spotted a kind of cantina. “It must be the outskirts,” he said. By now I gave up and he gunned the motor to a short rise. Over the top we found some men doing some construction work, a tough looking bunch. “Lock your door,” John snapped. I pushed the lock button. “Get the gun out,” he said. I did. Suddenly, there was no road and we hit bottom. We were stuck because the car was so damned heavy.

I realized that John was really frightened. We sat there as the wheels spun. “We’re going to have to get these men to help us, dear,” I said. “Let me do it my way,” he answered. Always, always it had to be his way, the Steinbeck way, never anyone else’s, because he said that was the right way. The men began to walk toward us. Whenever John was nervous or angry he broke out in perspiration. Sweat just ran down his face. The men came over, three of them, and one said in a heavy Spanish accent, “I theenk you’re going to need some help, meester.”

“I think I am,” John said through a window open about two inches. Right beside him he had a cocked thirty-eight. The men had brought some planks and pushed the car and we got out of the deep sand. “Isn’t this Las Vegas?” John asked, greatly relieved and very grateful. “Si,” answered the man. “Si, Las Vegas.” “Nevada?” “No, New Mexico.”

The rest of the day John did not utter a single word to me, and we never did reach Las Vegas, Nevada. He went back on Route 66. He still did not speak to me. I did not dare ask him to stop and let Willie out, and he did not ask me if I wanted to go to the bathroom, either. I knew that whenever he was in that kind of mood the only thing to do was shut up and be quiet.

We drove something like five hours in total silence. Finally, he stopped at a diner and said he wanted coffee. It came as a relief to me, not to mention dear Willie. I took Willie for some exercise and wrung his tights, as they say. We took off again, and still John didn’t talk to me. The radio was on, and, except for the purr of the engine there was total silence. Nothing to break the ice. In a way I was frightened. I was afraid that if we stopped for gas he might go off and leave me: that’s how angry he was over making a mistake. It was nearing twilight and the sun again was in our eyes. I broke the silence. “Where do you want to stop for the night?”

“I’m going right through to Los Angeles.” We arrived in Los Angeles the following morning and he had done nothing but pound that highway. It was almost daylight when we woke up my mother and stepfather. They were not expecting us until the following day. John was completely exhausted, and I wasn’t feeling any better. Even poor Willie was shaking. John had a stiff Scotch and mother made a pot of coffee. I don’t remember what John did, but I know I slept solid for twelve hours. It had taken us less than five days to get to Los Angeles from New York.

I don’t really blame John for his frustration. He had goofed, badly. I do not believe any of us want to make a mistake, even though of course we do. And of course, that time he did.

John decided to rent a house. He found one, furnished, in the San Fernando Valley. By this time he was involved in the filming of The Moon is Down, the story of the Resistance in World War II. That book sold over a million copies, and Twentieth Century Fox bought the film rights. The motion picture was released in the spring of 1943. Anyway, John arranged for the Haitian woman who had worked for us at Snedens’ Landing to join us. Her voodoo intrigued him, and besides, he loved the way she fried fish. She would not fly, so she came by train. She stayed with us the whole time we lived in that house in the valley.

John returned to a normal state of communication with the world around him, and his life once more was pleasant. We spent Thanksgiving and Christmas in the valley with Mother, my stepfather and numerous friends. There was plenty of party action, but John still worked. He worked Monday through Friday on the script of The Moon is Down but when the weekend arrived we saw friends and the corks were pulled. We had some great times with the Burgesses and the Milestones. We went to most of the Hollywood restaurants and usually ran into people we knew, maybe at Mike Romanoff’s or Dave Chasen’s, both heavy movIe star and celebrity hangouts. The Wagner boys were around and we often had dinner with them.

While we were in the valley, Jack Wagner approached John with an original story, but he could not write it. John did. I have the original outline of that story, which John typed. It was Medal For Benny that on screen starred John Arturo de Cordova and Dorothy Lamour.

The first part of January 1943, we headed back to New York. John decided he did not like Los Angeles any more nor did he like living in southern California either. It lacked privacy, he said. Being on the move again did not matter to me. We were together

#my life with john steinbeck #gwyn conger steinbeck #American Memoirs #route66

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ao3feed-safeklance · 7 years ago

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Playa Heat

read it on the AO3 at http://ift.tt/2wy0Yco

by finnat131

In which Lance and Keither beat it to Black Rock City for Burning Man. Can they confront their own survivals?

Lance is taking a year off college to work, and Keith is taking some time off to travel. When one of Keith's friends cancels last minute, Lance is offered a ticket to Nevada's Burning Man Festival and a chance to experience the desert he's known for years on a more intimate level than ever before. Little does he know that Burning Man's Black Rock City is where relationships between friends and lovers are put to the test, emerging from the playa heat shattered or stronger than ever before. Can his new friendships survive a scorching week under the desert sun?

Words: 8195, Chapters: 1/10, Language: English

Fandoms: Voltron: Legendary Defender

Rating: Not Rated

Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings

Categories: M/M

Characters: Keith (Voltron), Lance (Voltron), Hunk (Voltron), Pidge (Voltron), Pidge | Katie Holt, Lance's Family (Voltron), Lance's Father (Voltron), Shiro (Voltron), Allura (Voltron), Coran (Voltron), Voltron: Legendary Defender Team

Relationships: Keith/Lance (Voltron), Keith & Lance (Voltron), Klance - Relationship

Additional Tags: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Slow Burn, Fluff, klance, Burning Man, New Mexico, Albuquerque, Land of Enchantment, Desert, Nevada, Black Rock City, Waiter Lance, Playa - Freeform, heat - Freeform, MOOP, BRC, longer work

read it on the AO3 at http://ift.tt/2wy0Yco

#ao3feed #fanfic #voltron #klance

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ao3feed-klance · 7 years ago

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Playa Heat

read it on AO3 at http://ift.tt/2wy0Yco

by finnat131

In which Lance and Keither beat it to Black Rock City for Burning Man. Can they confront their own survivals?

Words: 8195, Chapters: 1/10, Language: English

Fandoms: Voltron: Legendary Defender

Rating: Not Rated

Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings

Categories: M/M

Relationships: Keith/Lance (Voltron), Keith & Lance (Voltron), Klance - Relationship

read it on AO3 at http://ift.tt/2wy0Yco

#klance #voltron #voltron legendary defenders #ao3feed

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ao3feed-voltronlegendarydefender · 7 years ago

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Playa Heat

read it on the AO3 at http://ift.tt/2wy0Yco

by finnat131

In which Lance and Keither beat it to Black Rock City for Burning Man. Can they confront their own survivals?

Words: 8195, Chapters: 1/10, Language: English

Fandoms: Voltron: Legendary Defender

Rating: Not Rated

Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings

Categories: M/M

Relationships: Keith/Lance (Voltron), Keith & Lance (Voltron), Klance - Relationship

read it on the AO3 at http://ift.tt/2wy0Yco

#ao3feed #fanfic #voltron #voltron: legendary defender #ao3feed-voltronlegendarydefender

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pineywoodatlas · 7 years ago

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Southwest Tour: Part III

The last leg of the trip ...

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Our next stop takes us to Truth or Consequences (commonly knows as “T or C”) -- a small town with a funny name and an interesting history. Formerly known as Hot Springs, New Mexico, Truth or Consequences received a name change in 1950 after winning a nationwide contest hosted by the radio game show of the same name. Its former name describes what the town is best known for -- its abundant local hot springs and spas. But we weren’t just there to soak and relax (though we did do some of that too), “T or C” is home to an interesting artist residency called Starry Night Retreat.

Founded by artist and entrepreneur Monika Proffitt in 2011, Starry Night is a residency program offering artists, of all different kinds of mediums, a choice of 1-8 weeks in a furnished apartment near the heart of the small town. This was definitely the priciest residency we have visited at $900 a week, but there are some options for payment plans and work / trade if an artist really wants to pursue this opportunity. Starry Night Programs also offers online classes for artists to develop professional skills as well as a program connecting artists to Art Basel Miami.

After “T or C” we head north to Albuquerque where we meet with some artist friends, one being Erin Elder: artist extraordinaire, curator, artist consultant and co-founder of an off-the-grid residency called PLAND. Practice Liberating Art through Necessary Dislocation (PLAND) existed in Tres Piedras from 2009 to 2014 as a multidisciplinary residency focusing on experimental and research-based projects. Our conversation over coffee and tea was really insightful and inspiring, covering topics about how to start a residency from nothing (which is actually the subject of an essay Erin and the other two PLAND founders --Nina Elder and Nancy Zastudil-- wrote for Phonebook 3. It is a must-read!), diversity outreach at residencies, the naivete of starting new projects, and just pulling the trigger and actualizing ideas. Erin about PLAND: “...there was something that was really important to us about the area, and the place. I think residencies are often place-based. They want you to have an experience with this unique landscape, or opportunity, and we really felt that to be true about this area... and wanted to have this place-based, immersive residency, but we saw it as this kind of renegade community, where people were not enforcing building codes, and we thought that was really fascinating. We wanted to build something outside of the norm.”

That evening we went to Sean Hudson’s closing MFA show at Small Engine Gallery and met a bunch of cool artists, a couple of whom had some interesting small world connections! We stayed the night with artist and friend Abigail (Bagel) McNamara.

On our way north to the next residency, we made a necessary stop at a place we had been hearing a lot about throughout the trip: Meow Wolf in Santa Fe. Expecting a somewhat traditional gallery with installations, we were really thrown off guard (in the best way possible) when we stepped inside the former bowling alley, now converted into a fully immersive, imaginative, and interactive exhibit by the art collective Meow Wolf. Equal parts Pee-Wee’s Playhouse, Alice in Wonderland and Netflix’s Stranger Things, “House of Eternal Returns” can’t even really be described in words. It’s just something you have to go see. And we highly suggest paying $1 for the Chromadepth Glasses.

Next stop: The small community of Lama, about 20 miles north of Taos, is home to the next residency, HEREKEKE. On a ranch, overlooking the magical and dramatic landscape of the Rio Grande river valley at 8,200 feet, HEREKEKE welcomes artists in all stages of their career and offers various programs. We talked to two of the founders, two incredible woman with a very similar beginning to us: Peggy Chung and Liliana Mejia met at an artist residency and it changed both their lives in important ways. “I've always felt like the biggest artwork you can create is your life,” said Peggy as we toured the studio, the sunlight pouring in through the large windows Artist residencies are from two to six weeks and artists work in a self-directed manner amongst the mountains and expansive landscape. Peggy, Liliana and other founder Nat Wilson, are interested in building relationships with the community and creative sustainable practices, offering music lessons, youth classes and other community resources like hosting a neighborhood goat milking cooperative. We love what they do!

During our time on Lama Mountain, we also had the incredible privilege of touring and spending time at the Lama Foundation: a spiritual community and retreat center that opens to the public once a year for tours, lunch, meditation and dancing.

And then began the much anticipated drive to Paonia, Colorado -- the place where we first met. Summer of 2013, we both began our first artist residencies at Elsewhere Studios. Due to a scheduling mishap we ended up being there at the same time. It felt almost fated: Elsewhere helped facilitate necessary shifts and changes in not only our artistic practice but our personal lives. After our residency period, Alicia ended up leaving New York, where she was living at the time, and moved to San Francisco with Carolina. Originally from the Bay Area, this transition was much needed and we were roommates and collaborators from then on. We returned to Elsewhere the following year as a collaborative team and further solidified the connection we have to the residency program, the land and community here in the North Fork Valley. (It continues: In late September, I (Carolina) moved to Paonia to be the Residency Program Manager of Elsewhere. Life moves full circle sometimes!) Elsewhere welcomes residents from all over the world at any stage of their artistic career for a 1-6 month residency in the unique and supportive environment that is Paonia. It’s very exciting to live here and work at the place where Piney basically began. I can’t wait to get to know all the residents that come through, and for Alicia to visit!

After catching up with friends in Paonia and visiting our old stomping grounds such as the local brewery, we head to eastern Colorado to a little rural town called Byers. Here we are meeting with Richard Saxton and Mary Rothlisberger of M12 and Rural Environments Field School. In Byers, we pull up to “The Feed Store”: once a bank, post office, grocery store, and ranch supply store, it served as the M12 office, studio, workshop, and an experimental space for rural cultural activities, which is now being moved to another location in the West. M12 is an interdisciplinary artist collective with an ever-evolving group of people creating projects based on the aesthetics of rural culture and landscape. At The Feed Store, we are greeted by college students who are part of the Field School. Connected with the University of Colorado - Boulder, the Field School is an intensive off-campus college course in which students are placed into rural environments in order to facilitate context-based approaches to creating art. We are there as visiting artists, speakers and curators and soon we are put to work, curating the students’ final show. The show is the culminating event after the course, and is a night of art, food and conversations.

From Byers, we drive west to Utah! Our next stop is in Green River, Utah, home to a very interesting and important project called Epicenter. We meet Maria Sykes, Chris Lezama, and Jack Forinash who helped found the non-profit in 2009. The town of Green River, with its red cliffs and blue skies, has a population less than 1,000 and is located approximately 100 miles away on either side from Grand Junction, Colorado and Richfield, Utah. This means that the town’s main economy is to serve drivers on I-70 needing motels, gas and food. Epicenter is an organization of people working towards creating a positive impact by partnering with local businesses to help boost the economy, bringing visiting artists to work on community projects as well as designing affordable housing for residents. As a part of their residency program, the Frontier Fellowship, they bring artists and designers to Green River for four weeks to create community engaged works that help instill rural pride.

On our drive to the next residency we stop in Ephraim, Utah -- a small town that Maria told us was the home of the Granary Art Center. The historical building is used as an exhibition and educational space showcasing local and international artists. Maybe home to a future residency?

We spent one night at Birch Creek Service Ranch near Spring City, Utah where Adam Bateman of CUAC (Central Utah Art Center) had some residency space along with a now-closed gallery in Salt Lake City. The residency is in a transformative phase so stayed tuned! While we were there, though, it was buzzing with activity as young camp counselors were getting ready for the yearly summer camp. At other times of the year, the ranch hosts artists who make use of the land, home to a large workshop and a two-story main building made of straw bale.

After sleeping under the stars at Birch Creek Service Ranch, we head to Nevada!

But right before we enter Nevada, we stop at CLUI -- Center for Land Use Interpretation in Wendover, Utah. It is located in a former airbase and consists of a public display of an informational interpretive art exhibit.

We leave our car in the small town of Montello, Nevada, and hop into Stefan Hagen’s-- the founder of Montello Foundation-- big rental car to embark on a harrowing journey down a bumpy, rural road to the most secluded residency we’ve visited yet. The building houses studio and living space and sits on 80 acres of land surrounded by expansive views of an untouched valley, the nearest house being 16 miles away. There is no staff, no other artists, just you, your thoughts...and certain wildlife, of course. Artists are invited to stay for two weeks in this breathtaking desert landscape in order to really focus … or to get distracted by the clouds. While we were there we met artist Micol Hebron (and her dog, Klaus) and had an incredible time exploring the land, watching the sunset and sharing meals.

We were unable to visit our last residency, an artist-in-residence program in the remote Black Rock Desert, because there wasn’t anyone there at the time. But we were able to meet with Michael Myers, Executive Director of Friends of Black Rock High Rock, at the Nevada State Fair in Carson City and he told us all about the program. Artists stay for two weeks, interpreting the ancient desert landscape through their varied creative practices. “This National Conservation Area is steeped in cultural history of both indigenous people and settlers, and is home to dramatic unpopulated desert landscapes.”

At this point, our trip is pretty much at a close and we are feeling a combination of feelings. Mostly we feel a sense of sadness that this incredible journey, with it’s stunning landscapes and unique, inspiring people we met along the way, is almost over. But! We have one last stop with an amazing artist friend, Sarah Lillegard, in Reno. Sarah is a maker of things and focuses on the intersections of personal mythology and the American West. She is also a student at Sierra Nevada College in their MFA in Interdisciplinary Arts Program, the same program that gave us the Lupita’s Grant that helped make this trip happen.

We have a million thanks to give and so grateful for every experience. We will be hard at work compiling everything we learned during our tour in order to print our second publication early next year. But we’ll keep updating you along the way!

PWA

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rockislandadultreads · 2 years ago

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Book Recommendations: Action-Packed and Fast-Paced Stories

Deep Sleep by Steven Konkoly

Countersurveillance expert Devin Gray is unwittingly thrown headfirst into dangerous new territory after the death of his mother. Helen Gray, a paranoid and disgraced former CIA officer, believed she was on the verge of preventing a national catastrophe - a mission worth dying for. Others, including Devin, believe she was chasing delusions. Until he finds what she left behind. With the help of longtime friend and former Marine helicopter pilot Marnie Young and a loyal team of covert operatives Helen summoned just before her death, Devin is propelled into a high-stakes chase across the country. What he uncovers, clue by clue, is a conspiracy more widespread and insidious than anyone could have imagined. Now it’s Devin’s mission to destroy a covert network poised to deliver a fatal blow to the future of the United States. And also to vindicate his mother, by seeing the mission through to its treacherous end.

This is the first book in the “Devin Gray” series.

Chrysalis by Lincoln Child

Like millions of people around the world, Jeremy Logan (famed enigmalogist, or investigator of unexplained things) has grown to rely on his incredible new tech device. Made by Chrysalis, the global multi-billion-dollar tech company, the small optical device connects people in a stunning new way, tapping into virtual reality for the first time on a wide scale. And yet, when Logan is summoned by Chrysalis to investigate a disturbing anomaly in the massive new product rollout, Logan is shocked to see the true scope of the massive company. He also quickly realizes that something in Chrysalis’s technology is very wrong, and could be potentially devastating. The question is what, and where is the danger coming from?

This book is the sixth volume in the “Jeremy Logan” series. The first five volumes are Deep Storm, Terminal Freeze, The Third Gate, The Forgotten Room, and Full Wolf Moon, respectively.

Eclipse the Moon by Jessie Mihalik

Kee Ildez has been many things: hacker, soldier, bounty hunter. She never expected to be a hero, but when a shadowy group of traitors starts trying to goad the galaxy’s two superpowers into instigating an interstellar war, Kee throws herself into the search to find out who is responsible - and stop them. Digging up hidden information is her job, so hunting traitors should be a piece of cake, but the primary suspect spent years in the military, and someone powerful is still covering his tracks. Disrupting their plans will require the help of her entire team, including Varro Runkow, a Valovian weapons expert who makes her pulse race. Quiet, grumpy, and incredibly handsome, Varro watches her with hot eyes but ignores all of her flirting, so Kee silently vows to keep her feelings strictly platonic. But that vow will be put to the test when she and Varro are forced to leave the safety of their ship and venture into enemy territory alone. Cut off from the rest of their team, they must figure out how to work together - and fast - because a single misstep will cost thousands of lives.

This is the second book in the “Starlight’s Shadow” series. The first volume is Hunt the Stars.

A Black and Endless Sky by Matthew Lyons

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