deep perspective

feb 15th: star axis by lisa waud

day twenty five: monumental inspiration

star axis is a naked eye observatory near santa fe, new mexico, that artist charles ross has been building for over 45 years. i had the thrill of touring the ‘architectonic sculpture’ with charles and his wife, artist jill o’bryan. star axis is scheduled to open to the public in 2022.

it was requested that no photos be taken at star axis. the photographs in this post are courtesy of the artist. 


i called jill from the gas station to let her know that i was close, as she instructed me to. i then drove down a paved two-lane road that looked just like every other road i had been driving on in new mexico. at a certain mile marker, i started to look to the left for a two-track i had been told to watch for, and eventually i saw it. passing the cattleguard, i pulled onto the dirt road in my friend’s borrowed 4runner. my stomach was full of butterflies. 

i drove down the rugged two-track wondering if it was the right one, and for what seemed like forever. then i saw a hand-built bridge that i had heard charles talk about in an interview and again my stomach electrified with nerves as i crossed it. i continued on the road until i came to a fork, and looking closely, i saw faded, rusty metal sign that read ‘star axis’. 

i took the fork to the left, as instructed, and combed the high mesa for a clue that i was on the right track. 

and there it was. 

a structure i was so familiar with, but seeing it in person, made me catch my breath. it was thrilling. i stepped on the gas and took the trail around the far side of the mesa until i passed a first, and then second gate. as i began to climb up the muddy incline, i passed the newly finished (and outer space-looking) guest houses and immediately knew that i would come back and stay in them one day. 

the climb grew more steep and more muddy, and i was certain i was going to have to walk all those miles back to the gas station to call my friend to say that i left the 4runner in the mud at star access. but then my childhood growing up and learning to drive on northern michigan country roads kicked in and i confidently made my way over the mud and ice and snow and craggy rocks. 

when i came around the last turn, i saw that a pick-up truck had been in front of me and i knew right away that it was charles. i followed the rusty, dusty truck up the curved hill and star axis came into my vision. 

i parked behind charles‘ truck, and as he opened his door two dogs leapt out from behind him. i stumbled out of the 4runner in my excitement. i couldn’t decide what to give my attention to first—charles, the dogs, or the massive presence of star axis. 

charles introduced himself, pointed at the smaller dog at his side, “this is pi,” and gestured toward the edge of the mesa where the other dog was barking, “and that’s tika." he then invited me to follow him and we walked out on one of the two overlooks of star axis. he accompanied me to the thick granite railing and swept his arm across the entirety of the horizon, explaining “you can see the curvature of the earth ever so slightly from up here.” i was immediately overcome with feeling very tiny in the immense landscape. i could have stood and stared all day, but charles lead us along the overlook until we were at the center of star axis. crossing over the middle, we paused and looked down at the stairs rising up and underneath—the stairs we would climb in a few minutes. we continued on with pi at our side and tiki running wide laps around us, barking, as charles explained that she must hear something out there. he told me that he and jill had found her on the side of the road a few years ago, so weak she was unable to even climb into their truck when they offered her a ride. they loaded her up and took her to the vet and tika had been with them ever since. he said she was a lucky dog that day, to go from seeking out garbage to eating prosciutto on a plane to new york. 

from the star axis site: the solar pyramid is a 55-foot high granite tetrahedron whose form is defined by the summer and winter solstices.

from the star axis site: the solar pyramid is a 55-foot high granite tetrahedron whose form is defined by the summer and winter solstices.


we walked around the opposite side, down a path framed by thorny shrubs. after descending around to the bottom, we were then at the base of star axis. the massive angled entrance made me very aware of the weight and density of the earth on either side of me. charles pointed out one rough boulder unlike the other smooth flat finished surfaces of the hundreds of other stones, and said he haven’t decided if he was going to leave it like that. i hoped that he would.

we walked slowly toward the base of the stairway and i felt more and more enveloped by the earth surrounding us. 

from the star axis site: the star tunnel is the core of star axis. it is exactly parallel to the earth’s axis and points to our north star polaris. as you climb the ten-story stairway toward the aperture at the top, you see larger and larger views o…

from the star axis site: the star tunnel is the core of star axis. it is exactly parallel to the earth’s axis and points to our north star polaris. as you climb the ten-story stairway toward the aperture at the top, you see larger and larger views of the sky. each view frames an orbit of polaris for a particular time in the 26,000 year cycle of precession.

the stairs in the star tunnel are dated to identify the years. the smallest orbit of polaris, viewed form the bottom stair in 2100 AD, is about the size of a dime held at arm’s length. the largest orbit of polaris you can see at the top of the star tunnel. It occurs in 11,000 BC and 15,000 AD and encompasses your entire field of vision.


at base of the stairs, we each ducked into the alcove on either side, looking back the way we came. charles explained that on the solstice, the sun will shine directly down the face of the wall, in perfect alignment.

tika barked, i think in agreement.

from the star axis site: from the equatorial chamber you can observe the sun’s path at equinox and the stars that travel directly above the earth’s equator. the equatorial chamber is located in the entrance to the star tunnel, the core of star axis …

from the star axis site: from the equatorial chamber you can observe the sun’s path at equinox and the stars that travel directly above the earth’s equator. the equatorial chamber is located in the entrance to the star tunnel, the core of star axis that is precisely aligned with the earth’s axis and frames our north star, polaris. the equatorial chamber alignments and those of the star tunnel converge at a perfect right angle.


charles then asked, “well, want to go up?” and we began the 10-story climb, with tika far ahead and pi leading up the rear of our star axis parade. 

halfway up, we stopped to catch our collective breath, and charles stood in the middle of the steps, “if you hold the railings like this,” taking a railing in each of his hands, “it centers you in the very middle of the stairs.” i took his advice, and i felt definitively balanced.

when we got to the top, we each took a side, like we had done in the equatorial chamber. he explained to me that if you sit with you back along the wall, as he demonstrated and leaned back looking up out of the aperture, then you are aligned with the equator, and looking up along the axis of the earth. i mirrored his actions, and felt greatly supported by the bench’s solid angles. 

and i felt as if something a little more than physical may have aligned in me, sitting there with charles.

from the star axis site: the upper room is at the top of the star tunnel. here the rim of the aperture encompasses your entire field of vision and frames the circumpolar orbit of polaris 13,000 years from now.

from the star axis site: the upper room is at the top of the star tunnel. here the rim of the aperture encompasses your entire field of vision and frames the circumpolar orbit of polaris 13,000 years from now.

i looked out of the aperture, imagining the past or future orbit of polaris. what a vision charles had—to build something that will outlive himself, me, and most likely all of humankind. “oh! watch yourself there. we’ve got an owl who likes to perch there, and, err, make some donations…” charles warned me, and thankfully, before i placed my hands in bird poop disguised as mortar. 

nature. always with the last word.


we descended from the upper room and made our way to the shadow field behind the solar pyramid. as we stood in the winter shade of the structure, charles knelt down and drew a bow tie shape in the earth, explaining that this was the shape the shadow makes over the course of the year. i longed to scoop up the drawing in the dirt; i felt an immense gratitude for this moment i was experiencing with charles.

from the star axis site: the shadow field captures the shape traced by all of the solar pyramid’s daily shadows over the course of the year.

from the star axis site: the shadow field captures the shape traced by all of the solar pyramid’s daily shadows over the course of the year.


we then entered the base of the solar pyramid and took some wide block spiral steps up into the hour chamber. charles lead me to a wooden bench (temporarily wooden, soon to be granite) and gestured for me to take a seat. he sat on a bench next to me made of a board on two cinder blocks, which i found endearing. i imagined all the visitors who’d come before me, and sat next to charles, listening and looking.

from the star axis site: from inside the hour chamber, you can view one hour of the earth’s rotation. the north star polaris is framed in the apex of the 15 degree triangular opening. it takes exactly one hour for a star anywhere along the left (wes…

from the star axis site: from inside the hour chamber, you can view one hour of the earth’s rotation. the north star polaris is framed in the apex of the 15 degree triangular opening. it takes exactly one hour for a star anywhere along the left (west) edge to travel to the right (east) edge.


as we made our way out, and into the new mexico sunlight, charles asked if i’d like to see his studio and meet jill. i followed him back down the muddy, slippery switchback (SO muddy, SO slippery!) and out both gates, then he motioned for me to park the 4runner and hop in with him. i did, and tika and pi welcomed me into the truck with them.

we rambled up the neighboring mesa, and while confident in my off-road driving, i was quite thankful charles was at the wheel over the cliff-hugging track. we rounded a corner and his solar burn lenses (so familiar to me from reading about his work) were revealed along with the house and both his and jill’s studios.

after i saw charles’ and jill’s studios, i met jill and gave her the 2 jars of overnight oats and 2 tangerines i brought for them, suddenly feeling silly, as if they hadn’t been coming up to star axis for over 40 years with ample breakfast provisions. jill accepted graciously, as well as letting me know how much they appreciated my interest in the project to make the trip.

charles and i walked back outside where the dogs greeted us, and he offered to drive me back down to my borrowed truck. he also offered for me to head back up to star axis to spend some time there alone. i was overcome with gratitude and excitement, and would head back up the mesa to star axis for another hour or so after he dropped me off.

charles pulled up next to the 4runner and thanked me for coming. i reciprocated, thanking him for touring star axis with me. i also asked him, as i was climbing out of his truck, “has your motivation ever waned, over all these years?” and without missing a breath, charles said, “no. never.”

feb 11-14: synthesis + sanctuary by lisa waud

day twenty - twenty-four: santa fe quiet time

in santa fe, i was able to take a couple days to lean into some tidying i was hoping to do on this trip. it doesn’t make for terribly interesting journaling, but i will say that i finally got all the random bits of ideas for art installations pulled into one place. i now feel that oxymoronic freedom that comes from being organized. *pan out to the 10,000 foot view: i’m so grateful i could take this trip to experience art and adventure—and to also have the time to synthesize what i’ve seen. it’s rare that i (we?) have the second part.

one afternoon, after coffee with friends carole and bill from michigan, fri and i went on a lovely hike, which was right in town, but after the first 50’ into the trail, you’d never know. it was quiet and beautiful. i wish i had a trail like this in detroit. palmer park and belle isle are close, but it’s a special thing to not hear city sounds for a bit. the dorothy stewart trail had some hills that got me moving, and some icy snow—i was wearing boots with barely any traction, so friday and i worked out a sled dog-type system where he would pull me up the slippery uphills with his pup momentum. we’re quite the pair.

after our hike, i stopped into the thoma art house and was metaphorically electrified by the collection. when i travel to places with muted palettes, i often feel quenched to see bold color and illumination. (this happened when i was in rome and discovered la galleria nazionale.) the collection at thoma features digital works, and i wandered around and drank them in.


one morning, we headed over glorieta pass and through las vegas (las vegas, new mexico, to be clear) to the tiny town of montezuma, to experience dwan light sanctuary. conceived by virginina dwan, friend and funder of many now-iconic land artists, with prism and astronomical art by charles ross, and architecture by laban wingert.

i didn’t know what to expect at dwan light. after the hour drive and navigating the small campus it’s situated on, i was so genuinely pleased to walk up the pine-scented path and into the subdued space. i was the only visitor in the sanctuary and pulled a padded camping chair off the stack provided and reclined on the floor to watch the prisms travel across the room.

my friend dan recently gave me the book ‘the power of moments’ and in the spirit of one of the elements in it—elevating a peak moment by boosting senses—i cued up pachabel’s canon in D quietly in the space and let my heart soar. the song is ubiquitous, sure, but i turned down the self-talk of feeling cheesy, and my memories of the song from childhood and my surroundings.


logistics
heated floors—two of my airbnbs on this trip have had heated floors. it makes for next-level yoga. it’s so choice. if you have the means…

a deeper dive—this vid is quite dated, but includes an interview with the architect of dwan light sanctuary and he talks about some of the elements of the project that i haven’t been able to hear anywhere else in my research.


jan 25th: american history by lisa waud

day four: more mounds + museums

adventures

so it would seem that i’m really into archeological mounds now? who knew! when i left nashville on saturday, i took the long way to memphis and detoured over to pinson mounds state archeological area.

the largest mound, #9 and also known as saul’s mound, had a staircase and platform built on it. i always love a view and a change in perspective, but it felt a little odd to climb up on something pre-historic.

i was pretty smitten with the museum, built in the tradition of the mounds. friday and i explored the park before the museum was open, and didn’t see another soul in our explorations. it was cold and quiet.


an hour west of pinson, i visited the tina turner museum. the museum, set in her childhood blacks-only one-room schoolhouse, is part of the west tennessee delta heritage center. i was struck by the juxtaposition of her glamorous costumes housed in the humble flagg grove school building.

the earrings that tina turner wore in max mad, beyond thunderdome. i mean, DANG those are EARRINGS.

the earrings that tina turner wore in max mad, beyond thunderdome. i mean, DANG those are EARRINGS.


it was another hour into memphis, and before i went downtown, i drove past graceland, just to see the sight.

it was a complete and total shitshow.

this was as close as i cared to get. don’t get me wrong, i love a few elvis songs, maybe even a dozen. but wow. the commerce and traffic of this man’s legacy.


the lorainne motel, where dr. mlk, jr. was assasinated || the memphis sanitation strike of 1968 (NCRM)

the lorainne motel, where dr. mlk, jr. was assasinated || the memphis sanitation strike of 1968 (NCRM)

when i finally made it downtown memphis, i was immediately struck with a connection to the city. unlike nashville (sorry, nashville—it may just have been bad timing), right off the bat i could feel the vibe, and i was into it. it was a saturday, and sunny, and folks were out and there was an energy in the air. friday and i were walking around town and came around a corner and i was stopped in my tracks. it was a feeling that i’d been there before, but i’ve not been to memphis. what it was, was what i was seeing. the lorainne motel. i’d seen it a hundred times before in images—the balcony where dr. martin luther king was shot.

the national civil rights museum of memphis is built around the lorainne motel, and is one of the most moving museum experiences i’ve felt. i learned more in one afternoon than i have in my lifetime. which is embarrassing—and motivating. living in detroit, i am often encountering local black history, but this place’s offerings are on the scale of our nation’s history, and its timelines, movements, and people came into focus for me. i had plans for the remainder of the afternoon, and they all went out the window. taking my time in that museum was one of the most important things i’ve done in a long while.

i want to go back again, and i want to take friends.


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after my time spent at the civil rights museum, the dog and i went for a walk and discovered a WAY cool thing in memphis—big river crossing—a pedestrian bridge across the mississippi river. we walked to arkansas and back.

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after what i already thought was a packed day, i realized i could still stop in to see the stax record museum, fri and i high-tailed it over to SOULSVILLE. i was just in time for a 20 minute movie on the history of stax records (with a little motown shout out thrown in!) and a self-guided tour of the museum.

my visit to stax, paired with my afternoon at the civil rights museum, really has me thinking deeply about american history. there’s a lot to think about, so i’m thankful i have many more miles to go on this road trip. the two thoughts i keep returning to, and i challenge you to as well, are—black history IS american history, and that black history and black culture ARE what make this country great.


logistics

hey—what happened to day three? boring admin tasks and more grumpiness—nothing too interesting. except! if you visit nashville, go to barista parlor in germantown. five stars on the aesthetics and coffee, plus, they play all vinyl all the time. lisielikey, as they say.

music—more mounds, more museum, more music. check the evolving road trip playlist for new additions.