Art Chowder May | June, Issue 27 | Page 28

M.J.: Is there somewhere you haven’t been that you’d love to visit? Jessica: Oh, so very many. I love immersing myself in a place, surrounded by all that makes it what it is: the people, culture, natural habitat, wildlife — everything. I’d love to go to Wadi Rum, South Africa, Antarctica, the Arctic again, the Himalayas, India, Japan, China, Patagonia, the Amazon, the Nile — everywhere! M.J.: If you could step into a painting and spend a day there, which would you choose? Jessica: Today, when it’s overcast with the remnants of our heavy snows, I’d choose one of Albert Bierstadt’s paintings of the Rockies or Sierras so I could enjoy some sun, a long hard hike, and quiet solitude. M.J.: Do you need quiet solitude to work? Jessica: I definitely do best with that. The reality of daily life is that quiet is sometimes in short supply. I try to have it as my work environment. When I’m in the parks, there’s nothing like a 10-mile hike to some secluded area where it’s just you with all the thoughts and feelings you experience in a place like that. But sometimes being able to enjoy that level of solitude requires a significant adjustment. Slowing down from the usually brisk pace of life can be challenging.  For example, early in my last residency I set out on a twelve-mile day hike that I had been looking forward to for a long time. I’d been going, and going, and going, wondering if I was maybe getting close.  Then I came to the first trail marker: one-half mile. “Seriously? Ugh,”  I thought.  “Well, time to come up with a coping mechanism to keep me going.”  I decided to see how accurate my phone’s step counter is and devised a means to keep track of counting into the thousands as a way to keep my mind off feeling overwhelmed.  I had to do this for most of the hike in, but on the way out I was in my usual groove.