My uncle lives in Telluride, Colorado, and has my whole life. I went for the first time for his wedding, when I was just two years old, and I feel like I have very fuzzy recollections of being there, some of my earliest memories. Either way, the place apparently lodged itself somewhere deep within my soul, because I have this unwavering conviction that it is without question the most beautiful place on earth.
But then, can you really blame me? This is what Main Street looks like: 
Telluride is also home to what could be considered the world’s most photogenic mountain (my apologies to the Matterhorn), the 14,000 ft. Wilson Peak:
I am not the only one who thinks so. The people at Coors Light agree, and have plastered it all over their 24-packs and billboards, like this one at the corner of Sunset and La Brea in Hollywood:
Of course, I consider this to be my mountain. I have ever since January of 2002, when in the wake of 9/11 and some personal drama, I found myself on top of the newly-opened Gold Hill, looking out at Wilson Peak, breathing the crisp, cold mountain air, and realizing that regardless what was going on in the world or in my life, I was okay. My view then was the same as the one in the above picture, and now I have it framed in black and white on my bedroom wall, where I can see it from my bed.
And it was one of my first sources of inspiration when I started painting again, a version inspired by Georgia O’Keeffe’s “Red Tree, Yellow Sky” (which I’d seen at the Museum of Fine Arts in Boston) that seemed to embody my personal style.
During the winter of 2004/2005, my brother was living in Telluride and working at one of the ski shops, and I decided to go visit him. While I was there, I got laid off. It wasn’t entirely unexpected–my television station was bought out by its competitors, and the sale just happened to be closing while I was out of town. So when I found out I was probably out of a job, I was actually at a rock concert on a ski slope.
Could have been worse. When the actual call came, from the consultant hired to deliver the bad news, I was on a ski lift, and told him as much. He refused to tell me anything until I was on solid ground, not dangling twenty feet high on a chair. I think he thought I was going to fall off.
Later, I got a phone call from a local newspaper reporter, asking me what my plans were. Truth be told, I hadn’t even thought about my next moves, didn’t want to until I got home. “Would you say you’re in denial?” he asked me. “I’m not in denial,” I told him, “I’m in Telluride.”
Like denial, but with more snow.
I ended up extending my trip and had the best week of my life, and ever since then I have made a commitment to returning every winter. I made a promise to the mountains. My mountains.
And those mountains continue to be a source of inspiration. After my most recent trip, I created my Mountain Series, which features the outline of Wilson Peak in snow white against a brilliant sky blue background.
My Silver Tracks wine bottle was inspired by the tracks skiers and snowboarders leave as they curve through fresh powder.
When you’re skiing, you spend a lot of time ridng on lifts, listening to music (I don’t ski without my pink iPod Shuffle, Wilson Pink), so you notice things like that. And things like the aspen trees that line the slopes, with their eyes that stare at you from where branches broke off, that became the inspiration for my Purple Aspens wine bottle.
It’s a motif I’m repeating on my latest piece, a recyled Prego pasta sauce jar.
It flips the color scheme, so the trees are a teal green and the leaves purple, against a silvery green background. The rim of the jar is a deep purple, the inside rim silver. It’s not finished yet–still painting the cap–but look for it soon on Etsy, as well as other designs inspired by my mountains. Telluride is far from done with me.
Tags: art, aspens, Background, Colorado, Inspiration, mountains, painting, silver tracks, Telluride, Wilson Peak
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