Jon Stahn | Maze of the Madrones
“… Light falls into the car, we stay for another 10 minutes, it is hot and hazy. I start the car and drive out of the city, the bright afternoon landscape starts appearing. I look towards the mountains, the grey and blue formations on the horizon, distant vanishing points. We are on the road, heading for Steve’s trailer on top of Foster Mountain. I think of the mountain at my fingertip on my 3D map of Mendicino County, the trees are a green avalanche flowing before my eyes. There are fewer and fewer houses. Images of sculptures appear to me, glittering golden ghosts, silent, weightless, raw. The road divides, I drive towards Hearst. I am in the map, under the magnifying glass on the road that winds up through the forest to the pass with the beaming stones and the clouds continuously casting shadows on the red slopes of the mine and the first gate. Visual disturbance carved in marble, zombies and mermaids, Heaven and the dusty Madrones, the mountain makes me happy, I feel the blood flickering in my hands after the trip.
(Jon Stahn, 2019)