About the Artist: Keith Marroquin Poet Connecting People to Place

I was drawn to Keith Marroquin's art before COVID-19, because of his loney and untouched sepia tone landscapes, but now, one could say, they are that much more relevant. Undulating sand horses, persistent ocotillo, bleached whale bones; these are some of the singular protagonists in the dramatic, wild landscapes of El Pinacate y Gran Desierto de Altar Biosphere Reserve in Sonora, Mexico. Marroquin slips off to photograph this area often, to the extent that he is well-known by people who run the park, who grant him special access. Nursing is his other profession, which he practices in Tucson, Arizona. In either location, he holds space for a deep connection with the Sonoran Desert.

In Marroquin's bio, keithmarroquin.com, he describes fostering a preference for vast, untouched spaces, dating back to a childhood in which people were often the source of pain. A place devoid of people presents an opportunity for true peace of mind and mental health. No doubt, for many of us trying to shelter in place, the sight of a wild landscape inspires an affective response; relaxation, desolation, or perhaps a bittersweet mingling of the two.

Wild landscapes dominate the art, culture and movements of the Sonoran region, but for Marroquin the intimacy and power of the connection comes across particularly clear. In this way, his art is a form of conservation advocacy. It immediately connects the viewer with a natural world by creating an emotional experience that summons curiosity, appreciation and perhaps even commitment.

When I asked Marroquin about his view of the border wall, he talked about the U.S./Mexico border as a completely fictitious, man-made thing, which seems too evident as you experience the Sonoran Desert on both sides. He told me he does not despair, as he sees today as a blip in the big picture. He takes a geologic perspective, "In another 100,000 years nature will create equilibrium. Change is always going on; from inside the canyon walls you can see a band of limestone that was once an ocean. The now of people is short-sighted, the natural world represents the long view. Even if there is damage that won't be repaired in our lifetime, it will still be fine." His perspective was comforting at that time of our conversation, but now, at the start of April 2020, it means something else entirely