Mesquite trees and the sky became a part of me during my childhood on the desert of Tucson, and southern Arizona, where the mesquites on our acreage grew to heights of thirty feet or more, Brahma bulls regularly broke through our barbed wire fence, and brilliant blue morning glories blanketed the underbrush every morning during the summer.

When I was about seven years old my mother took me on a road trip throughout the US and Southern Canada. After visiting parts unknown for a month and a half, we finally headed back towards Arizona. Looking out the window in New Mexico, I realized that from the time we had left the desert up until that moment, I had not been able to see the sky. This series of work is about the feeling I get when I step into the desert.