Tuesday, June 11, 2013

Painted Desert Inn, finally some pics

I keep talking about the Painted Desert Inn and have put one or two photos of it here before. It seems every time I go there, which is often because it's only two miles from where Grace is parked, I take another photo. The look of PDI, as it's abbreviated by park people because it does get tedious to spit out five syllables (as opposed to saving two by saying PDI), and the look of the desert change with the light. In that way, they're like the canal I lived on in Washington. I thought I'd never get over missing the canal desperately, and while I do miss its character and constancy, I've found another love in the desert.

I'm not going to put a lot of commentary here, but want to show you a bit of PDI and the desert immediately near it. When my sister Margaret died, this is where I headed to think. There's a real, tangible peace here. If you ever come you'll feel it too.

Here's some history from the National Park Service site that gives better information than I could.

So here we go:
I've shown this before: the front of the Inn from the road.
A side terrace.
A terrace on the opposite side.

Photo taken with my back to the desert. The entrance to the far left, barely seen here, led directly into the bar.

A dining area as it was when the Inn was in its heyday. The murals on the wall were painted by Hopi artist Fred Kabotie. Coincidentally, I took a silversmithing class from his son Michael Kabotie, also a noted artist in a variety of media, and a poet.

This is the mural seen on the wall to the right in the photo above.

One of several hammered-tin light fixtures.

Glass panels painted by CCC workers in designs created by Fred Kabotie.

The restored soda fountain and snack bar. The furniture was built by the CCC and the place is authentic down to the original gray paint on the booths. Unfortunately, this is for show only. Milkshakes and burgers are no longer served here.

In the house of long life, there I wander.
In the house of happiness, there I wander.
Beauty before me, with it I wander.
Beauty behind me, with it I wander.
Beauty below me, with it I wander.
Beauty above me, with it I wander.
Beauty all around me, with it I wander.
In old age traveling, with it I wander.
On the beautiful trail I am, with it I wander.

(Dawn Boy's song on entering White House, "Navajo Myths, Prayers, and Songs,"
University of California Publications in American Archeology and Ethnology, volume 5,
number 2, Berkeley (1907). From The Colorado Plateau / John A. Murray, 1998)