After a day visit to Ghost Ranch about a year ago, I was determined to return. That brief visit opened my eyes to the possibilities of staying and being part of the beautiful lands of New Mexico, which have captured my heart and imagination since I first visited the state at 16. Following my short visit, I discovered Ghost Ranch has an artist residency program called Estudio Corazón. I looked into the program and decided to apply. I wrote in my application that I was undergoing a transition, a change in my heart that I wanted to spend time discovering. I was accepted to the program! As it turns out, my first foray into artist residency set such a high bar, I’m not sure another experience will surpass it.

Beautiful fall colors in the high parks of the Rocky Mountains.

I arrived at Ghost Ranch as an artist in residence in late September 2025. I could’ve done the drive in one day, but I decided to break it up into two days, meandering through the middle of the Colorado mountains. I was rewarded with moody skies, dry roads, and peak fall foliage in colors that ranged from light green to brilliant orange and red. When I arrived at the famed destination of incredible orange cliffs and canyons, I was already filled with awe for the visual wonder I had been taking in. And yet, that was only the beginning!

I was assigned to Casita 5, a cute little two-room casita in the middle of a row of nine casitas; one each for seven artists, our liaison, and a community room. Each artist’s casita had one room set up as a bedroom with a bed, dresser, desk, chairs, and shelving, and the other room configured as a studio. The studio came with shelving, a large easel, a very large worktable, an art cart, and a stool and chairs.

I couldn’t wait to get to work making art. I woke up every day filled with joy. There, outside my door, was the massive Kitchen Mesa providing shade in the early morning. There were flocks of piñon jays, noisily flying back and forth, claiming the skies below the mesa as their own. It smelled of piñon, earth, and fresh air that is hard to describe; so clean and pure. A typical morning consisted of making tea, grabbing an art book I’d been wanting to read, and settling into the comfortable camp chair on the portales (porch), absorbing the sensuous feast nature put before me. That glorious “portales time” in the morning really set the tone for the day. After we left the Ranch, my casita neighbor and I texted each other, commenting on how much we missed that morning time, as she had a similar routine.

The other artists quickly turned into new friends. We frequently walked together the 1/2 mile to the dining hall for meals in various group sizes and configurations, enjoying the incredible beauty and conversation each way. We went on hikes solo, together as pairs or in small groups, some went on ranch tours, and all of us spent a lot of time in our studios working. A recurring theme for all of us was the gratefulness we had for our residency, and the gift of art time that is so difficult to manage in a person’s daily home life. For me, the lack of decent cell service came as a real treat. Texting and calling were difficult to impossible at the casitas, which meant we relied on the wifi at the dining hall to catch up on life and people at home, and maybe an Instagram post or story. It was so good to be away from media. Nothing mattered more than what I was doing right in front of me, and what I could see and hear in the world immediately surrounding me.

Two weeks went by incredibly fast. I had an artist friend tell me before I left, “You’ll get homesick.” That proved untrue for me! I missed my husband for sure, but I was perfectly content with my routine. Portales time, art-making, lunch, more art-making, dinner, more art, or a hike, or hanging out at the fire pit with the other artists. We enjoyed a few group outings off the Ranch as well, which really enriched my experience. There wasn’t a single day that I didn’t thank my lucky stars I was able to be ensconced in that magical place, or that I didn’t marvel at the stunning beauty.

So what did I accomplish or derive from my time in residency? There were a couple of art-related questions I brought with me. One was, am I a photographer or am I a painter? That question has troubled me for months, and I was hyper-focused on it to the point of trying to force myself into thinking I had to combine the two disciplines somehow. But having time to contemplate showed me I don’t have to choose one over the other, and I don’t have to “combine” them if it doesn’t feel right. I can do both. I can be both. I am not limited. This breakthrough in thought was so freeing. I gave myself permission to just create, and not worry about rules or expectations.

The other question plaguing me was, can I still draw and paint? Regardless of the bit of practicing I’d done at home prior to the residency, I wasn’t sure if I still “had it” from my youth and college days. I’m not sure why I disengaged from art during my younger adult years, other than, for some reason, I had it in my mind I couldn’t do art and also raise a family. I thought that being a stay-at-home mom and, at times, a working mother was mutually exclusive with creating art. I was so very wrong and short-sighted. I’ve missed out on years of opportunity to create.

Through prayer and reflection, I discovered quite a bit about who I am as an artist (and also as a person in this middle stage of life). I have a long way to go, but I am more comfortable calling myself a painter as well as a photographer. I can still draw, and I can still paint! In fact, through experimentation with a variety of mediums, surfaces, and subject matters over the last few months, culminating in my time at Ghost Ranch, I can say that I am gravitating toward watercolor, oils, and some print-making, and I really enjoy painting architecture, nature, and wildlife. Art will be part of my every day, whether I’m drawing, painting, shooting photos, or carving.

Sometime last year, an artist and gallery owner with whom I’d had a solo show approached me about being a permanent artist in her new gallery and studio she would be sharing with her artist husband. I was and still am blown away that my new friend, Georgia, chose me! I accepted, of course, and we are all three now in our new gallery space called Open Door Studio and Gallery in Cheyenne. With my participation at the gallery, where I have both gallery and studio space, I will have dedicated time to create new art. How serendipitous that both my Ghost Ranch experience and the opening of the new gallery would come together in the same month. In my mind, there’s only one thing that explains that kind of timing, because it was certainly not my timing!

Cerro Pedernal as I said goodbye to the Ranch.

My only regret is not keeping a daily journal of my experiences. But there are highlights that are embedded in my memory: The laughter we shared around the fire pit. The wonder (and small bit of fear) of hearing what we guessed was a mountain lion or perhaps a coyote chirping/barking in the night from Box Canyon. The smell of paint in my studio. The piñon jays. The excitement when something clicked and what I put down with my paintbrush was the same as what was in my mind. The somehow satisfying feeling of irritation because it was time to go eat, but I was absorbed in a painting and didn’t want to take a break. The “studio hop” we self-organized at the end of our stay so we could delight in and celebrate each others’ creations.

My sleepy trail ride horse.

The colors of the desert.

The smell of the earth and adobe.

The people around me.

The wonderful food.

The aloneness, but not loneliness.

The sun.

The Milky Way.

The presence of God.

Summarily, the Land of Enchantment. Pretty hard to beat that.

Enjoy a few photos I took during my time at Ghost Ranch.

Ghost Ranch Residency