On New Year’s Eve eve, I found myself tracking across the Mojave, on through Amboy, past the world’s largest thermometer in Baker and towards Las Vegas. The sky was gray and a chill settled in. When I made it to Sloan, Nevada the surface of the road whispered that I was chasing rain.
Why Sloan? Well, in the desert stands seven colorful towers: Ugo Rondinone’s Seven Magic Mountains
For some reason I naively thought, “It’s New Years time. I’ll have the place to myself. Who the hell else would come out to see stacked fish tank rocks when Vegas is right over there?”
As it turned out – lots of people. The ground around the installation hosted a steady stream of visitors making peace signs and curiously out-of-place “sexy looks” for photos.
I don’t get the need to present yourself as sexy in every situation. This is me being sexy on a bridge. Look at me, I’m sexy by these rocks. Remember that time I was sexy by that tree? But I don’t have to get it, I guess. My job is to mind my own business and follow the colorful cairns scattered around the world that lead a path to my heart.
I bet you’d love me if I were a robot.
Seven Magic Mountains
S Las Vegas Blvd
Las Vegas, NV 89054