On Site Inactivity

I haven't updated this site in several months, apologies. I've been in a strange place mentally (and at times physically). From Iceland and Ibiza I went on to mainland Spain to continue traveling, but because of several factors including but not limited to exposure to new and unexpected experiences, a lost friend, and subpar planning, I ended up feeling lost and confused while in the country. At a certain point I lost the will to continue traveling and spent several weeks living in a bamboo grove on the outskirts of a small town near the capital of Aragon. 

This bamboo grove was my home for ~3 weeks on the outskirts of Utebo, a small town near Zaragoza.

I wish I had seen more of the country but I wasn't in the right head space to see it (better to save it for a return trip, hopefully with a partner). In the 1 1/3 months I gave myself to travel there, I only went as far as the kingdom of Aragon. 

This is not to say that during my time there I had no good experiences.  Every person who picked me up (which during my tiny period of travel amounted to 6 rides) were some of the nicest people I've ever been picked up by. On the other hand, i did wait a full 24 hours at one spot to get a ride. Had to go find a place to sleep in the woods and come back in the morning. The Internet would have you think that Spain is tough to travel around by thumb and I can't help but agree with that sentiment. Even so, it's definitely possible and the interactions you can have there are just as rich as any other country. My interactions were made extra special as I had to practice Spanish at the same time as practicing my people skills.

I returned to the US in November, spent a while returning to normal life, and am now working freelance and painting in Columbia, S.C.  as well as becoming involved in an arts collective based here, Scenario Collective:

Scenariocollective.com

My productivity as an artist has remained relatively low during this time. I felt a need to feel comfortable for a time, to stay still. This has really been an excuse for lethargy, and I must break free from it. As this February begins, I task myself with bringing four paintings and two videos to completion by the end of the month. Not a lofty goal for sure, but a reasonable step to returning to productivity.

I thought for a long time in that bamboo grove. I read, drew, wrote. I decided there that I did not want to teach English in a foreign country as I had previously planned.  I realized the importance of friends there (as well as during my Traverse in Iceland where I would dream about hanging out with friends at home and wake up laughing to a cold, windy, bleak reality). I wrote a long list of plans, both creative and self-improvement, to put in action once I returned home. I'm still working on the list, still trying to find my direction in a very "The Graduate" kind if sense. 

Here's to a good 2016. 

An Icelandic Traverse: Lighthouse to Lighthouse

Hraunhafnartangi to Dyrhólaey

The whole thing started three years ago. Alex Page and I were making travel plans for the next summer. After multiple travel ideas, Alex found a wealth of information on past cross-country traverses of Iceland. He proposed loosely following in the footsteps of Jonathan Ley, an adventurer who detailed his experience on his page phlumf.com. I had long been interested in Iceland, and when Alex brought up the walk across Iceland from the Northernmost point to the Southernmost point, I was game. We spent the next year planning, getting ready to make the trip in the summer of 2014.

In March, Alex dropped out for personal reasons. By then I had a strong desire to attempt the trip, so in May 2014 I flew alone to Iceland to try. I wound up being unsuccessful, unprepared with insufficient food, navigation tools, or understanding of the territory. Upon returning from the trip, I began making plans to try again. At this point, I began defining the traverse as a walk from lighthouse to lighthouse, the northernmost lighthouse being Hraunhafnartangi, the southernmost Dyrhólaey. While these two points are not the absolute northernmost and southernmost points in Iceland, they are each within 1km from the extremes and made for more exciting start/end points.

Mountains in the Fjallabak Nature reserve viewed from the southern edge of the highlands.

Fast forward to summer 2015. I graduated college, worked at Philmont in June and July, came home for 6 days to visit family and friends, then shipped myself back to Iceland to reattempt the traverse. This time I had more food, better navigation, and more time. I let ICESAR know where I would be and came later in the summer for lighter snow conditions.

It was a success!

I don't want to provide and in-depth trip report detailing day-to-day experiences for this post, so I'm going to talk more in general about the walk. Here's a route map with some trip info.

Blue dots are camping spots, some are labelled with notable locations. 

In 2014, I came upon the northernmost lighthouse at 2:30am when the sun was just beginning to rise behind it, an incredibly beautiful experience. This time, it was midday and quite foggy. I couldn't see it clearly until I was a few hundred feet away.

The northern sections of trail reminded me of my time in Iceland the year before. I had visited this area, seen the roads before. This time, the birds were gone, night came and went, and I was filled with excitement for the unknown ahead of me.

The cliffs of Asbrygi from the southern rim.

I had previously visited Asbyrgi and Dettifoss but had never seen the area between them. the trail along the Jökulsá á Fjöllum river passes by some of the most incredible lava/basalt formations on the island, It was a treat to see so much incredible geology stuffed into one day.

Midges around Mývatn are no joke.

About 30 km before Mývatn, I somehow rolled my ankle. I walked for another five days on the ankle, but (what a surprise) it didn't improve. I put the trek on hold just above the highlands and laid down for a week to let the ankle heal. I was worried I wouldn't be able to continue the trip, worried if I left the trail I wouldn't come back. These fears were eased when, after a week, the ankle pain and inflammation improved significantly and I was able to press on.

I spend a night in this trailer, just off the side of the F26 in the middle of the desert.

It is a strange feeling to be alone in the middle of a desert. The landscape of the highlands is barren, black, and windy. As most who visit this area experience, there are often storms that include a full menu of discomfort: very strong headwinds, stinging sideways rain, dust and dirt picked up by the wind delivered directly into my eyes, and a deep, constant cold. 

Icelandic history tells of outlaws and loners who took up residence in the highlands. If they survived, they often carried a legendary status, and I can see why. Staying in that region alone for weeks, months, years would make one more than a little crazy. The constant wind gets into your head, rattles your brains a bit. It steals things too (eg. my ground cloth). 

I was forced to have layover days twice on the trip simply because the weather was so bad. Thankfully, there are emergency shelters out in the middle of nowhere. I don't think my tent would have survived some of the storms I was able to wait out in the safety of a hut.

Deep in the middle of nowhere, my map called this set of tire tracks a "road."

This solo walk was without a doubt the toughest challenge of my life. I wasn't completely sure I would make it through until I actually finished. Very often I would have problems with my own morale. I would sit down, put my back against the wind, and consider whether the walk was really worth it. I would feel like hitching away, wishing never to walk the route again. I'm happy I was able to see the journey through, I know if I didn't I would have found myself back on the route for another attempt in a few years.

One of the most famous views on the Laugavegur trail.

The south-central region, home to the Fjallabak Nature Reserve, Laugavegur trail, and pass to Skogar, contains some of the most beautiful scenery in the entirety of Iceland (and some of the least predictable weather). 

Nearing Thorsmork.

The Lauguavegur is often found on international trail top-ten lists, and I can certainly see why. Every second of this trail is filled with amazing views. The environments found in this 55km section of the hike were incredibly varied. I feel like I had the entire trek's scenery compressed into two days with tons more piled on top. There was a little taste of the highland's black desert, even some new friends!

Sunset in Thorsmork's valley basin.

Upon reaching Thosmork, I felt the trip coming to a close. I was a day away from the coast and at the end of the climactic Laugavegur trail. I felt sad to have such an incredible experience come to a close but excited for the next adventure.

2km from Skogafoss, almost to the coast.

When I reached the top of the pass to Skogar, I could see the ocean 13km away in the distance, the sun's reflection shining on its surface. It was an emotional moment to know that the end was in sight. Well, almost the end. The lighthouse was still about 30km from Skogar.

Made it!

Reaching the final goal of the trek was an odd experience, not as cathartic as I expected it to be. Other tourists were parked at the lighthouse, enjoying the view with their loved ones, strolling leisurely along the cliff side. Without someone else there at the finish line with me, it almost didn't seem real. I wanted to share the what I was feeling with someone, but no one was there to feel it. I reached the lighthouse, touched it, walked around it for a bit, took a few photos, then left, hitched back to Reykjavik for my plane the next day.

From Iceland I flew to Ibiza, Spain to meet up with some good friends on vacation. It was a completely different environment, strange to be warm, relaxed, and surrounded by friends so quickly, but wonderful all the same.

The traverse was an experience I will never forget. I look forward to doing more long-distance walks in the future and recommend an Icelandic traverse to anyone experienced enough to do so. A huge thanks goes out to everyone who helped me during the trip, those who picked me up while hitching to and from the trail, those who asked if I was ok if they saw me during the walk. I am especially thankful for my friend Finna Sigurðardóttir who was absolutely incredible in assisting me whenever I needed her help. I could not have done it without her.

I am traveling in Spain until November. I will keep moving, keep learning, keep making. May that taste for adventure never run dry.

Tucker

At Philmont

I've been working at Philmont for around twenty days so far this summer and have been enjoying every minute of it. I've had the opportunity to paint, train, take out a crew, and make new friends.

Ranger Trainer Tori Mack gets her boots wet while crossing a stream.

This year I was selected to be a Rayado ranger, an exciting experience.  I've been training for the past 10 days and will leave tomorrow to lead a 21 day trek with partner ranger. 

Rayado rangers gather around a campfire during Rayado training.

This is one of the most rewarding experiences to be had in the Ranger department, and I am looking forward to every minute of it. My partner and I have bonded well, our trip has been planned, and we are ready to get on the trail. Even as I write, Rayado participants are arriving to begin their adventure, and boy, do we have something great planned for them.

The Rayado TC stops to enjoy the view at Window Rock.

Thesis Review

           When I first started “Protecting the Crossing,” I laid a ground base layer of paint over the entire canvas as a starting point for the tone and color, like almost every other painting in the show. This ground layer was a fantastic example of why I love the mark-making of painting so much. The paint was laid on with a thick two-inch brush in wide strokes. These strokes, reacting to each and every stroke before the next, create a shifting, murmuring sea in which I easily lose myself. I react quite strongly to this feeling, yet I hide it under coat after coat of representational figure. I felt a need to preserve this feeling but did not yet pursue a method of doing so.

           A week before the gallery opening,  I sat on a couch with Emily Olyarchuck, a fellow honors student, writing out a press release for the show. She asked me for a quote to place in the press release, so we talked for a while on the meaning of the show, the intentions of the show. In my own words, the paintings “tip-toe” around contemporary ideas, never really moving into a space with which I felt satisfied. Based off of my own perceptions and comments made by others, my inability to move the paintings forward, to shift and push and pull until they feel finished, is the worst quality about them. I don’t press hard enough into the ideas I want to convey, I let a painting sit then find it too difficult to reinvigorate. I tip-toe on the paintings, I treat imperfection with too much care. There needs to be a selective abandon that I haven’t yet cornered. 

           This timidity has been a running theme in my work for years. This sort of care can be a good thing when used the right circumstances, but timidity is not my intention with these paintings. There’s a Masters student here whose work I really respect, for his color and form partially, but primarily for his mark. He preserves all of the energy put into the piece with the way he uses mark. I don’t necessarily paint in this way, but I’d really like to, as that sort of energy preservation is something I’ve always respected about digital concept artwork. To treat the paint in a way that refuses to hide the artist’s hand, to flaunt it, to say “This is why painting is important. This is why one can find a human connection in the work. Because human hands made it, from the raw material, selectively placing mark after mark based on conscious and subconscious decisions. You can see it there, look, this is what people can do.” Concealment of this beautiful fact is counterproductive. 

           For my thesis defense, I met with David Voros and Ed Munn Sanchez in the studio to reflect on the past semester’s work. Both were positive about the work, but also presented me with difficult questions about the work, some of which I had thought of but not fully answered for myself, some of which I hadn’t thought about at all. I struggled to respond, I didn’t really know what to say. I feel like my work has never been challenged in that way before, so I really appreciate that exhausting experience. Such discussion helps one identify one’s work, further understand it, improve confidence in the work. Even so, I feel I still don’t have good answers for David’s and Ed’s questions. Perhaps with a few more hard talks things will be figured out.

            What I struggled with the most, besides not working enough on the paintings, was the need to put a meaning behind the work. David and Ed asked me, “why should [the viewer] care? Why does this matter?” I felt, and have always felt, like I needed some explanation more grand than I could easily procure. That’s the theme part in the thesis title. I love mark, I think it’s beautiful, but I have this notion that it needs to be paired with some sort of other, more important thing. Yes, the big paintings are supposed to have meaning. For the most part, I think they do. But that doesn’t necessarily make them any more interesting than the small studies. I remember conversations with a Dutch painter while studying in Italy, David would know his name. The painter’s work consisted entirely of copies of stock photography-type pictures in acrylic. Upon first glance, his work seemed rather boring to me. Then he talked about his work. He spoke on and on of the beauty of the image as an illusion. He used the simplicity of the paintings to focus on the magic of paint’s ability to form reality within the viewer’s mind, the fact that without people to look at a painting, paintings remain pigment suspended in medium, useless. 

            I respect this painter’s discussion of his work primarily because he is confident in his reasons behind the work and because the reasons are so simple. One finds it easy to get caught up in such work when the artist is excited and clear about his intentions. I feel like I have not yet found that clarity and confidence as an artist, a problem needs discussion such as this in order to work through. That confidence, like much of life, is a barrier that when broken makes one’s life easier and more successful. If I intend to progress further as an artist, finding my voice in describing my work will be incredibly important.

           As I work through these paintings, these sorts of ideas develop, and slight changes in my work appear. The change is slow. My work has not broken all the original rules I originally, informally, established, but it has changed some. My last large figure has more visible mark involved. Not much more visible, but certainly a little bit. I want to move that way, I want to show that energy.

           Whatever sort of energy I put into the paintings, I have still not reached a point where I feel I’ve “pushed” the paintings enough, worked them to where they are solid, finished pieces. This was a problem discussed multiple times when I talked at the defense as well as with other artists from whom I requested critique. I need to work more freely, I need to spend more time on each painting, I need to not get stuck in one place with the paintings. There just needs to be more on the canvas, more completion, more finishing. I am excited about the amount of art I’ve been able to produce this semester, but I know that it all needs more work.

           Here’s my take on the paintings as a whole, my vote of confidence towards what I’m making. Above all, no matter what the theme, I am attempting to show the beauty of  human-produced markmaking. Whether subtle or loud and energetic, the beauty of that sub-image level of painting gives it authenticity, gives it importance. When I look into that random, abstract sea of paint, I am aware of a world that is motivated by both conscious and subconscious ambitions.  I am aware of the symbiosis between what we deliberately choose to do and what is decided for us by our instinct, education, and endless absorption of human experience. There is a push and pull between the marks I specifically choose to make, with deliberate angles, lengths, widths, pressures, energies, and those marks that are made with less deliberate thinking, marks I entrust to my hand, my subconscious, and the energy flowing between them. Just as that Dutch painter found magic in the change from seed grease and dirt into images, I find magic in that conscious and subconscious synthesis. Whatever medium or content I’m working in, that idea holds true.

           This project was not simply the production of paintings. My naïve excitement believed that renting a real galley space in the Vista and populating it with finished paintings wouldn’t be a problem. As it turns out, a solo show is a lot of work. Not only is the painting extensive, the business side of a show is an entire event-planning endeavor. I looked for advice from Emily and got some help from my mother a few days before the show to complete many of the tasks necessary to make ready, but I still had a large quantity of work to complete simply to make sure the gallery was ready to exhibit. Framing paintings, getting food, spreading the word, contacting newspapers and local media networks to put out information, maintaining an online presence to keep people interested, making business cards, consulting others on how to act within the gallery setting as an artist, getting a videographer, getting a photographer, hanging the pieces, and many more little housekeeping things that made the process more extensive than expected. This part of the thesis was just as much of a learning experience as the painting aspect, maybe even more so. I am not used to event planning but need to become more comfortable in that environment if I want to continue as an artist. It was incredibly exciting to see those around me offer help, to be able to interact with the community as a content producer. This project certainly improved my feeling of community involvement, especially with the Columbia art scene.

           I created a set of paintings to show in a gallery for a week, paintings that built on a theme, portrayed my own joy in painting. The success of those paintings is more or less debatable, but what I learned from the experience is huge. That’s the point of a thesis, right?

Thesis Show!

I will be displaying my work in Gallery 80808 in Columbia from May 7th to May 11th for my senior thesis show! Exciting stuff here, 5-6 large paintings supplemented by many smaller paintings. There will be refreshments and conversation, so if you're in Columbia, you should stop by!

(Press Release) BFA Thesis Visual Art Exhibition at Gallery 80808

            COLUMBIA, S.C. (April 30, 2015)- University of South Carolina Honors College student and Bachelor of Fine Arts in art studio candidate, Tucker Prescott, will open his senior gallery exhibition with a reception from 7:30 p.m. to 11 p.m. Thursday, May 7, at Gallery 80808.

Prescott’s thesis project, “Figuratively Speaking,” is an exploration of the relationships that exist between figures and landscapes. His works vary in size, but scale clearly plays a powerful role in this exploration of space and the human figure. Composed of about 18 pieces, “Figuratively Speaking,” is a collection of works that represent the skills Prescott has developed while studying at the University of South Carolina and abroad at the International Center for the Arts in Monte Castello, Italy.

            “This exhibition is a synthesis of academic figure work and a yearning for a fantasy outside of those boundaries,” said Prescott. “I feel like this collection tip toes at the edge of breaking free of classical ideas but does not quite make the complete separation. As new paintings developed, they experimented with a more contemporary space.”

            Prescott will graduate with an Honors Bachelor of Fine Arts degree in studio art from USC on May 9, 2015. This exhibition is in partial fulfillment of his honors distinction requirements as well as an incredible opportunity for Prescott to reflect on the works he has produced during his four years of study at USC. While Prescott’s passion lies in painting, he also enjoys film production and editing, and as he prepares for graduation, Prescott continues to work at Mad Monkey, the local film and television boutique, as a pre and post-production specialist. Prescott’s projects in painting, film and photography can be viewed on his website, www.tuckerprescott.com.

            “Figuratively Speaking,” will be displayed from May 7 to 11 at Gallery 80808 in the Vista. The exhibition will begin with an opening reception on May 7 from 7:30 p.m. to 11:00 p.m. Refreshments will be served, and Prescott will be available to discuss his senior exhibition and experience at USC.

For more information, please contact Tucker Prescott at (843) 687- 6870 or email him at precscot5@email.sc.edu.

###

Vista Studios was established by Columbia Development Corp. and the South Carolina Arts Commission to anchor development in Columbia’s warehouse district, the Congaree Vista. Since its inception the studios have attracted an exciting mix of established and emerging artists. Vista Studios functions as an artistic hot house that is both protective and demanding. Art is made. It is a creative community that supports artistic leaps, develops professionalism, and adds to the environment a thriving rental gallery space, Gallery 80808, a rare resource for artists of the Midlands.

On Clouds

It seemed like it was a cloud built just for the summer. One of those clouds you see when the air is humid and warm and the rain has just come or just gone. The peepers were out, and the moisture between my fingers reminded me of when I still chased fireflies in the front yard of my parent's house at dusk, the white one with the wraparound half-screened-in porch. I could pinpoint that cloud's time of day, season, and location on a world map with only the color palette of this towering cumulonimbus and its surroundings.

First, the dark, viridescent, endlessly varying but exceptionally green shades of green. To Google search sap green, or forest green, bring the brightness down a touch, and place all the endless variations on the same idea together, on a lawn or in a tree. Just to the right is deep charcoal black, or lamp black, not yet full black, soft in its warmth still left from the sun, moist from rain, drying but not yet dry. Looking up, a blue that extends from the last dregs of daylight to the onset of night but refuses to reveal where each individual color starts or ends. More than the night itself, this blue invites a view into the heavens, into some endless stretch of space where the young can dream of spaceships, or of love, a future's hopeful promise. The blue is stopped by a soft, shining pink, no, red, no, orange. An entire half of a color wheel held for fifteen minutes in a shifting mass of globby, luminescent indulgence. The falloff from the brightest orange back to the hazy purples is visible yet indeterminable. The highlight color sinks in, refusing to be forgotten, like a bright ground, some cad yellow mixed with alizarin crimson that still glows under translucent glazes. The color reverberates, reflecting into the shadowy purples and creating more pockets of color like a bolt of lighting frozen in time. The purple fades off below into hazy nothingness, punctuated every so often by a few more hints of orange. 

As I write this, I listen to the warm rain and thunder that has since arrived. Summer is on the horizon, and with it, drastic life changes. Life has made me anxious to leave, anxious to move on, taking with me only what is important and leaving behind all else. My friends and family will always be with me, dead or alive, bridges burned or maintained, whether or not I show it. At this time in my life, I must keep moving, I must go out, I must create. Keep moving. Go out. Create.

Move. Make. Move. Make. Move. Make.

On Traveling Cheaply

I spent $180 during my month in Iceland. I spent ~$400 during my month and a half in mainland Europe. It is absolutely possible to travel on a mini budget. You just may not be comfortable the whole time. Fortunately, lack of comfort is a catalyst for adventure. 

How I saved money:

Food - I brought freeze-dried food from the US to eat in Iceland, I carried this with me until I finished it. I bought one canister of stove fuel and found another full one in a fuel canister recycling bin. When I bought more food, I went to cheap grocery stores (Bonus in Iceland, Tesco in England, various stores in France and Italy) and bought cheap ingredients and calorie foods. I ate from restaurants around 10-15 times during the trip. Sometimes those I traveled with offered me food or took me to restaurants, for which I was extremely grateful. I also dumpster dived a few times in Iceland, getting things like bread, cake, and orange juice that was all still quite fresh. I did not eat well overall, I should have treated my body better by feeding it more. An extra $50 investment in food overall would have solved that problem.

My food bags (beginning to run low) and my day pack

Lodging - I payed for three nights of lodging: one campsite in Iceland, two nights in a cheap London hostel. Other than these three nights, I camped in my tent or stayed with people I either met on the road or had contacted for a place to stay. This happened more than one would expect. I spent fifteen nights indoors because of the generosity of others. 

Baggage - I was able to operate in this way primarily because I traveled with one 65 liter backpack. I could easily bring everything I had into other people's cars or move into mountainous, unpopulated areas on foot. I also carried a compact REI daypack I used when doing day-trips with a homebase. 

Transport - I payed for transit from the Keflavik airport (that was a mistake, I should have hitched directly from the airport), inner city buses and subway transit in Rekjavik, London, Nottingham, Paris, Perugia, and Rome, and for two train rides. The majority of the distance was covered through hitchhiking, the cheapest (and most rewarding) option available for land travel. There was certainly also time spent walking and I boarded a few trains in France and Italy, but ~85% of land was covered while hitching. Many of the best parts of the trip came from hitchhiking, meeting people, and having experiences I never would have expected to have through those interactions.

Plane tickets - Bought early. Flying to England seemed to be the cheapest way to get to mainland Europe from Iceland, so I flew there. I used Wow air for the Iceland-England trip. The return ticket from Rome was expensive, roughly the same price as the US-Iceland ticket and the Iceland-England ticket combined, not so good. If you want to get to Europe and back as cheaply as possible, do a round-trip to London or Paris with Wow Air, buying far in advance. Just make sure you are able to get back to the city in which you arrived by the end of your trip.

Mementos - I brought back pictures and videos, an ice axe I found on a glacier and several volcanic rocks. I had no interest in souvenirs, I assume no one else at home did either, so I stayed away from them. I also had a small notebook I used to record the journey.

The ice axe can be seen on the side of my 65L Osprey pack (actually the women's version, had it since I was 13)

Museums - Went to free ones as much as possible, but the larger museums in Italy did get a bit expensive. I did pay full price and then some for a ticket to the Vatican Museum, though one might say it was worth it as I was with a group and pressed for time. I visited five different art galleries in downtown Reykjavik, the Tate Modern and the National Watercolor Gallery in London, The Louvre and the Petit Palais in Paris, the Uffizi and the Accademia Gallery in Florence, the Vatican Museum and the Capuchin Crypt along with several free churches with Caravaggios in Rome.

I intend to be just as cheap when I return to Iceland this upcoming summer in August. It's a wonderful way to live, and the easiest way to force myself to meet others, think quickly, and be flexible. The fact that you save money is just a bonus.

A Hitchhiking Map of Summer 2014

I've created map showing my path while traveling during the summer of 2014, with a bit of information about different locations, different events that happened during the experience. Click on the map to see the full resolution.

Look, another one!

I'm still trying to do this daily drawing/painting thing, I've just been super busy.

Meh

My mark smooths, and is lost among shape and color. I will seek to change this in the coming days. I leave for New York tomorrow, and will not be posting daily. The culmination of the week's drawings will be seen when I return.