Photo by T. Scott Williams/NPS

Painted Desert Inn and the Painted Desert - COPYRIGHTED MATERIAL

While in the park in July, Ellen Simper painted and displayed many pieces of her artwork while in the park.

All images displayed here of the artist's work are copyrighted by the artist and may not be copied, reproduced, or otherwise used without permission of the artist.

Artist Statement

My Art is to capture verbal and visual treasures of life. Everything in life has a story that can be told in word and fine art.
- a tea cup on a kitchen table and cloth
- the dust on piano keys
- any conversation with a 3 year old
- observing the creaks of an old floor, in a well-lived home
- a name scratched into a sidewalk which has kept the secret for many years
- a trip to the grocery store, but stopping to visit with a friend or a stranger traveling through town from a far off place.

I love recognizing the hidden treasure of life's common and tender moments — life's gift to each of us. I love preserving common moments in uncommon, unusual and tender ways — my gift to life.

Photo by T. Scott Williams/NPS

Simper chats with visitors inside the Visitor Center

Artist in Residence in Petrified Forest National Park
By Ellen Simper, Holbrook AZ

It was the best of times; it was the hottest of times - two weeks as an Artist/Researcher in the Park - the Painted Desert, Petrified Forest. It was a study of an array of interesting people, an exposure to some marvelous scenery and a challenge to avoid the high temperatures during a prolonged, nationwide heat spell. Afternoon thunderstorms added to the ambiance, blending some cooling breezes with an increase of humidity. The contrasts in all areas were amazing to behold.

It was a heady experience to have the “Artist/Researcher” tag hanging on my vehicle mirror giving me access to most every area of the Park. I made a few mistakes - I “ran the gate” because I thought I could just go through without pausing and waving my hand. I was chased down by a very nice ranger, who in his best Public Relations manner informed me that “running the gate” was not allowed, even for someone with “the Tag.” Toward the end of the two weeks, a gate checker said I wasn’t supposed to go through the tourist/counted gate, but to 1-pause, 2-wave and 3-go through the employee gate. I just didn’t get the memo.

Staying in the housing for the Researchers was also a very different experience for me. The bungalow, as I called it is separated from other living areas for employees and feels isolated. The row of rooms looks out over open desert, with I-40 some distance away and I knew there was a fence. I felt completely alone in the solitude of evenings, more enhanced by not having brought any apparatus to make noise, such as a clock or radio. It gave me some new insights into being alone. I had visions of marauding prairie dogs. Instead, tiny marauding ants marched over kitchen counter surfaces if there was a slight aroma of food.

Photo by T. Scott William/NPS

Agate House and pottery - COPYRIGHTED MATERIAL

There were several startling things that I didn’t expect. Years ago with my children I had visited briefly in the Park but now I had the opportunity to spend more quality time. Because of the summer’s heat and being somewhat out of shape, I was not ambitious to hike. I made the normal tourist-traversing of the road between the Southern and the Northern points of the Park to take pictures, but was unhurried with no time constraints. The vistas of the land were surprisingly evoking of awe and wonder. It caught me by surprise that I felt such dramatic effect from what I was privileged to slowly absorb.

The other more startling occurrence was the urge to pick up a souvenir. I believe there is a basic need to possess organic treasures of this earth, a child’s urge to find pretty rocks to take home. I had the opportunity of taking my daughter and her family on a trek to the Agate house from Old Highway 180. We made our way through the gate on the road and parked just south of the most unique edifice of the Park. Distances in wide open spaces are deceptive; it looked so close, just a quick jaunt up to it. Every time I looked up to see how far we had walked, the Agate house didn’t look any closer. The heat of the morning added to the feeling of distance as well as the stickery, unpaved, uphill walk. When we had finally made it, the pleasure was worth the effort.

The Agate house is such a remarkable place to visit because of its prominence in the surrounding landscape. It is also beautifully surrounded with a carpet of petrified wood pieces, so numerous, so varied in color, so amazing an array of ancient items. In the past I have felt annoyance for people who would steal pieces from the Park, to systematically diminish the finite amount, but seeming bounty of nature’s display. It was a struggle of conscience, feeling the urge to take some. I realized that age is not a limit for wanting some wood from its natural setting. Even as a 60 year old, I was startled by wanting to pick up a beautiful piece and carry it to my car. There was no one else around; it felt like a piece or three would never be missed. It gave me an increased understanding of but not the justification for people who give in to taking something from the Park. Okay, I didn’t give in to the urge! Later in the second week, I was spending my last day painting at the Rainbow Forest visitor center. I had made a trek earlier that morning for more photographs, to the western length of Old Highway 180. As I carried my art equipment into the museum, I commented to Mark that I had a rock in my shoe. He quipped “well, you better not leave the Park with it.”

There is always some humor even in the irritations of life. When I took my trek to the west end of Old Highway 180, I got out at the gate to open it. I forgot to put the car in park so it started rolling. Realizing my error, I attempted to get back in before it made contact, which was not possible. I had this image of Superwoman holding onto the bumper and keeping the vehicle from impact, but alas, I have a souvenir scratch on the front of my van. I believe the gate was none the worse for wear since it already has a patina of time and use. It’s a little harder explaining to my husband that the scratch on my car is a favorable patina marking the passage of time and use.

Contact with tourists was the highlight of the time spent in the park. It was such a pleasure to receive their comments as they came in from the Giant Logs Trail. One woman from the East coast said this was her second time and it still brought her to tears. Another woman said it was the most beautiful thing she has ever seen. A gentleman commented that no one could deny the existence of God when his handiwork is on display in the Petrified Forest. It was amazing to realize that people come from all over the world to experience the sights of Arizona’s National Monuments.

There was entertainment and educational material from travelers who had gone to great effort to enjoy the wonders of the State of Arizona. For some it was an extensive drive across the nation; for others it was a plane flight into the closest large city and a rented car to explore the contrasts of our beautiful state. It was fun to ask how far they had traveled, to see their reactions to a landscape that is so very unique from most everywhere else in the world.

Tourists gave me lovely comments about the paintings I exhibited, but also about what I was currently working on. Conversations with children were the most enthusing. They were very exuberant in their praises and my ego was continually fed. There were a few moments which were also paradoxical One strong willed little boy asked if he could paint. I replied that he would have to do that at his house. When his mother came up, he was overly insistent that he should paint NOW! For a brief moment, it seemed like his mother and I would lose the contest. Several budding artists were admiring in their comments and it was with encouragement to them that we discussed aspects of painting, light and shadow, composition, painting media, style and more. Several current artists had great comments and suggestions. A couple of comics asked if I had painted the Painted Desert. Overall it was great fun!

The best of times included the contacts, the strokes given by nice people, the assistance given me by thoughtful staff, the comradery which I felt as I spent more time in that marvelous setting. Although the jewels of petrified wood need to stay where nature put them, it was a jewel of an experience in the jeweled area of Northeast Arizona. The jewels of memory will stay with me for a very long time.