Sal de Rey

and the “creative” process of getting out of my own way.

October 30, 2025

Visiting a Texas salt flat

with ideas for a site-specific AR sculpture..

On the cusp of Samhain, when the veil between this world and the spiritual world is thought to be thinnest, my partner and I drove up to Sal del Rey, a Texas salt flat north of town. I’d had an idea for a site-specific AR sculpture there and wanted to show my visitor from Spain this unusual landscape. But once we arrived, the ideas that had felt exciting in the studio seemed disconnected from the place. I was caught up in my head — in possibilities, timelines, and things centered around me. I wandered like that for a while, until I remembered the first step of my practice (which I somehow always forget): is to listen.

So I crouched low, put my hand in the salt water, felt the crystals forming underneath, and asked — What do I have to learn here? Almost immediately, patterns came into focus: the texture of my skin between youth and age; the water hovering between liquid and crystal; and the sense of standing in simultaneous moments of transition, like Samhain itself — between seasons, between worlds.

There’s so much pressure on artists to be clever, to make something unique. But when I get too caught up in trying to be impressive, I become small and limited in my knowing. I’m reminded that my first step is always to touch the source and listen — to set aside my ego and meet the world as it is. That’s the real work, as essential as any act of painting.