The suburbs of Arivaca, Arizona

By Carrie Jacobson

After about a week of driving and exploring, making my way through North and South Carolina, Georgia, Florida, Alabama, Mississippi, Louisiana, Texas and New Mexico, I have made it to Tubac, Arizona, where my dad and his wife live.

It has been a fabulous trip, full of discovery and adventure. It’s been something to drive through towns like Pascagoula and Pass Christian, towns whose names I’ve heard forever, but have never seen. Been something to see Spanish moss, the Gulf of Mexico, the George Ohr Museum, and the damage that Hurricane Katrina wrought.

I’ve painted, and driven, and explored. I visited New Iberia, where my favorite fictional character – Dave Robicheaux – lived and hung out. I saw longhorns, donkeys, goats and llamas. I crossed the eternity that is Texas, and was blown around so hard by wind in New Mexico that I had to stop driving… but I got here safe and sound.

Dad is 84, and he’s been painting for maybe 10 years, maybe more. For most of that time, he’s done watercolors, but recently has moved into acrylics.

Until Tuesday, he’d never painted in plein air! So I was thrilled – thrilled! – when he agreed to go out painting with me.

We had a great time bouncing along a terrible road to a teeny town called Arivaca. Dad says it was settled in the 1960s and 1970s by people whose main pursuits were hiding from the law and selling drugs, maybe not in that order.

These days, it’s an eclectic, dusty little town, broken down in places, and kept up in places.

While we didn’t see any drug activity, it did seem that everyone in town smoked cigarettes. Haven’t seen that in a while.

A furniture designer and artist named Peter Saloom (check out his furniture by cicking here) rode by on a bike and stopped to see what we were doing. An awful lot of folks drove by and then sort of turned around and drove by again… I am sure they were wondering just what the HECK we were painting…

Here’s my dad:

Here's my dad and his painting, mid-way.