EDITOR'S LETTER

editor's LETTER The genesis of “The December Project”

It came in the middle of the night. In a dream. I'd like to believe it was providence, but I think it was just the “day's residue,” a term used by Freud to describe the memories left over from the events of the day - those memories, he said, are the raw material of our dreams. His theory seems to fit. I spend a lot of time trying to come up with things to do in the magazine that haven't already been done. With a magazine that's pushing a hundred, that's not so easy. So, I'm grateful for visions of sugarplums.

The trick is to collect them before they evaporate. I learned a long time ago that I need to write things down, especially dreams, so I started a journal called “the Book of Big Ideas.” It's presumptuous at best, but I keep it on my nightstand just in case. At 3:17 a.m., I scribbled a note: “New idea. The December Project.” A few hours later, I started a list.

Like a letter to Santa, the list was long. There were about 25 artists on it - each one abundantly talented - but I only needed 10. I couldn't decide where to start, so I started at the top and worked my way down.

“Hello. My name is Robert. I'm the editor of Arizona Highways. I'm checking to see if you'd like to participate in a project we're planning for our December issue. Here's the gist: We're inviting 10 artists to paint a classic photograph from the magazine's archive - you'll be given a lot of liberty. The paintings will be paired with the original photographs in the layout. We'll also feature portraits and short bios of the artists. I'm wondering if this is something you'd be interested in.” I never got to No. 11. The first 10 said yes.

“Oh, wow,” said Naomi Brown. “I'd be honored to be a part of this project. I think it's an amazing idea and I love it! I'm very fond of Arizona Highways. As a young artist, I was given stacks of vintage issues by my dad's first-grade teacher. I taught myself how to paint by using the photos in the magazine. I wanted to move to Arizona every time I read the stories and looked at the pictures. Now, here I am, living in Queen Creek, painting the desert.” Tamara Hastie was more succinct. “I'm stoked,” she said.

Bill Ahrendt was on board, too, but he had some questions, and asked that I give him a call. Although we'd never met, we should have. Bill, who is 88, has a rare seat at our round table, and his 16-part series of historical paintings, which premiered in May 1987, is one of the magazine's most impressive milestones. We talked. And then met face to face when he was being photographed for this issue. By then, he'd already selected an image from our archive. It's a riveting portrait by J. Peter Mortimer, our first-ever photo editor.

“I remain inspired by your great photograph of the 103-yearold working cowboy,” the artist said to the photographer. “The book Arizona Highways: 100 Greatest Photographs was placed on my drawing table. I turned its pages one at a time. A gnarled old vaquero pierced my eyes with his. He had a century of hard times etched in the topography of his face. I didn't turn another page. He was it. You'd caught my subject.” The capture wasn't so easy for Amery Bohling. I knew it wouldn't be. She has a childlike sense of wonder, and wanted to paint everything. So many times she'd say, “OK, I've got it.” Only to change her mind. It was a pattern that went on for weeks. Finally, we sat down in her studio and started poring over images. She narrowed it down to two and said, “You decide.” “I can't,” I said.

“Then I'll paint both,” she said, with a checkmate grin.

Just like that, it was back on me. Somehow I had to make the hard choice. Like choosing between frankincense and myrrh. That is, until I found the answer in our December 1946 cover, which features two young Navajo girls, wrapped in blankets, watching over their sheep. It's one of our most renowned covers, and it reminded me of one of the images Amery had selected - a vertical photograph titled Navajo Camp.

That could be a cover, I thought. And the other painting can go into The December Project.

Amery smiled when I shared the plan. Then she said she'd like to donate the proceeds from both paintings, which leads to the best part of The December Project. When I first reached out to the artists, I asked that they agree to give at least half of the sale price of their paintings to a charity of their choice. There was no hesitation. These are remarkable men and women. To each of you - Amery, Bill, Dyana, Frank, Kevin, Linda, Marcia, Michelle, Naomi, Tamara - thank you for your benevolence.

I know that not everyone who reads this magazine believes in Christmas, but I hope the generosity of these artists and the beauty of The December Project will help evoke the spirit of Christmas. That feeling of lightheartedness, love and good cheer. Of peace on Earth, human righteousness and decency.

“It is not how much we do, but how much love we put in the doing,” Mother Teresa said. “It is not how much we give, but how much love we put in the giving.” It's a sentiment that's echoed throughout the holiday season, but it's not limited to December. It's just as important the rest of the year. And it's something to keep in mind when making resolutions. Meanwhile, from all of us at our world headquarters, happy holidays, and thank you for spending another year with Arizona Highways.

THIS HOLIDAY SEASON GO WILD

This holiday, start a new tradition. An annual donation to wildlife conservation here in Arizona will help the Arizona Game and Fish Department conserve and protect more than 800 species, now and in the future.

Because the department receives zero general fund tax dollars, contributions from people like you are critical. It's how Game and Fish is able to bring back endangered species, create safe passages for animals and deliver lifesaving water to wildlife year-round.

With your help, Arizona wildlife has more than just hope this holiday. It has a future.

Donate or become a member today at AzWildlifeHero.com.