Since I’ve moved out to Arizona, I’ve been lucky enough to be visited by a few of my friends who are either playing shows or on their way into L.A. from other parts of the country, or who have simply come to spend a few days hanging out with me. A quick look at the road map would indicate that Phoenix should be just off Interstate 10 as one blows through, heading east to Tucson or west to L.A. But I’m actually quite a ways off the beaten path. Once, when I invited Dinah Cancer and the other members of 45 Grave to stay overnight after their show in Scottsdale, I gave her directions to my house. A short while later, she called me from her cell phone, asking “how far out do you actually live?” I instructed her to keep heading north past the malls and the houses. It was silent for a moment and then she asked, “You want me to drive into the darkness?”
There’s a long stretch of open desert that separates the neighborhood where I live from the developed area to the south. When my husband and I first moved out here, that barren stretch of two lanes running through the desert really bothered me, but after living here for over 6 months now, I have learned to appreciate the unspoiled beauty of the desert.
When Terry Graham and Allison Anders stopped by to visit, the first thing Terry said to me when he got out of his car was “You told me you lived out in the middle of nowhere...you lied; you live on the outer edge of nowhere.”
Still life on the outer edge of nowhere has its rewards.
A couple of days ago, I snapped this photo of the sunset in the desert area that surrounds my house. I only wish I’d been able to take a picture of last night's lightning display. There’s nothing like watching spectacular lightning storms roll across the open desert. They put any fireworks show to shame.
I grew up in L.A. and I was never inclined to go camping or head to the beach. Instead, I preferred the nightclubs and lights of the city. I was proud to call myself a city girl. What happened to me? Out here in the desert, I've discovered a part of myself that's in tune with nature. It's exciting to realize that there are still aspects of myself yet to be discovered at age 47. Just don't ask me to go hiking.