The first time I drove to Big Bend in 1970 was the first time I saw mountains. I thought I could stop the car, get out and run up the side to the top. After a few minutes of climbing, I realized the illusion of proximity that mountains, crystal clear air, and the desert can play. I didn’t make the top that day and spent the rest of the visit learning about the beauty and demands of this extraordinary place. At the time I was a figurative painter and had done very little landscape, plein air or otherwise. The power and vast intimacy drew me in and changed the way I saw my surroundings and myself. Standing at the summit of Mount Emory, after a good hard hike, the view extends to an earth-curved horizon. I felt myself to be without boundaries, identified with everything.  Inward and outer vision both reached toward infinity. There are old sketchbook entries that mark the experience. I have spent the rest of my life learning to bring that experience into every day, everywhere life and from there to painting. The next 54 years I would go once or twice a year, hiking, journaling and painting. Big Bend is a place of identity for me. It has shaped my life and art.

—Bob Stuth-Wade