Ladee's Travels

  Our group gathered at Furnace Creek Resort not just to escape into the stark beauty of Death Valley, but to do something quietly intense: sit together, laptops open, and work through the art of post-processing our photographs. It was a day of careful decisions, shared techniques, and the kind of focused conversation that only happens when everyone in the room is deeply invested in seeing images become their best possible selves. Before we even reached the boardroom, the resort itself set the tone. If you arrive from the lower parking lot, your journey to the lobby is anything but ordinary. You enter through a stone-lined opening and step into a long, gently curving tunnel carved through the earth.  The temperature cools, the light shifts, and the outside world fades behind you. Your footsteps echo softly as you move forward, surrounded by textured rock walls that immediately evoke the mining history of the region. Midway through the tunnel, you pass a small mining exh...

  Finding rhythm in the desert floor The Haystacks are one of those places in  Death Valley National Park  that don’t shout for attention. There’s no overlook, no dramatic pull-out crowded with tripods. Instead, the landscape unfolds quietly, revealing itself as you slow down and really look. Stretching across the valley floor, the Haystacks appear as evenly spaced mounds of desert vegetation, low and rounded, dotting the open plain. From a distance they feel almost agricultural, as if the desert has been carefully planted. Up close, they are wild and stubborn, shaped by wind, water, and survival rather than order. Photographing the Haystacks is less about chasing a single focal point and more about  finding balance . I spent time walking the edges of the area, watching how the repeating forms interacted with the distant mountain ranges. The real subject here is the relationship between elements: textured earth in the foreground, the soft rhythm of shrubs in the midg...

There is a particular stillness that settles over the Mesquite Flat Sand Dunes just before sunrise. The desert holds its breath. Footsteps soften, voices drop away, and everything waits for that first quiet moment when night loosens its grip. We arrived in the half-light, our group gradually dispersing into the dunes like silhouettes drifting across a pale canvas. Each photographer chose a different direction, drawn by instinct, by shadow, by the promise of a curve or ridge that might catch the light just right. From a distance, we became small figures etched against an endless sweep of sand. As the sun crept toward the horizon, the dunes began to transform. Cool blue-gray tones slowly warmed, and the first kiss of light traced the crests, outlining their elegant curves. Shadows stretched long and dramatic, carving texture into what moments before had seemed smooth and monochrome. The sand became alive with detail: ripples, wind patterns, subtle ridges shaped by countless desert ...

  There is something ceremonial about the first sunset of a journey. It sets the tone, quietly declaring, This is where you are now. Pay attention. Zabriskie Point was our first stop as the light began to soften, the sky stretching wide and impossibly blue above the badlands. We arrived with the sun still high, shadows just beginning to form, the land not yet revealing its full drama. The hills looked sculpted rather than eroded, like folded fabric or brushed clay, waiting for the light to finish the story. The walk toward the viewpoint felt like a gentle pilgrimage. A slow, winding path carried us upward as people spread out naturally, each choosing their own pace, their own pause points. Some stopped early, drawn to a particular curve or ridge. Others continued toward the crest, pulled forward by the promise of what lay just beyond. As the sun lowered, the landscape transformed. Warm gold slipped into the pale yellows and muted browns, then deepened into richer tones. Shad...

  Some road trips have a moment that quietly becomes the memory you keep. On the drive from Phoenix to Las Vegas, that moment for me was a slice of apple pie in the high desert. If you’ve ever taken US-93 north, you know the rhythm of that road. Long stretches of open sky, scrubby desert, and the sense that you’re passing through places that exist because people chose to stop there. Luchia’s is exactly that kind of place. You don’t rush through it. You arrive. A Desert Landmark You Don’t Expect From the outside, Luchia’s looks like a colorful roadside trading post, hand-painted figures dancing across adobe-style walls, a tall sign promising a restaurant and Indian jewelry, and cars pulled into the gravel lot as if drawn by instinct. It feels part Route 66 nostalgia, part Southwest folk art. Step inside and the mood shifts to something warm and timeless. Display cases of Native American jewelry, pottery, metal wall art, butterflies, horses, and small treasures line the space. ...

  Hooves & Heritage: Motion at the Arizona State Fair Native American Rodeo • Phoenix, Arizona • Photographs & reflections by Ladee Kalenik Rickard There’s a sound the arena keeps for itself: the thud of hooves, the rattle of a gate, that hush a crowd takes just before the chute cracks open. These photographs were made at the Arizona State Fair during the Native American Rodeo —a kinetic blend of sport and story where heritage rides straight through the dust. Presented by Desert Diamond Casino West Valley , the event draws Indigenous cowboys and cowgirls from across the Southwest to compete, celebrate, and carry tradition forward. Rodeo and photography share the same heartbeat—timing. Miss the moment by a breath and the story is gone. Event notes & stats Schedule: Two performances daily across a two-day program (afternoon & evening). Events: Bareback riding, saddle bronc riding , bull riding , steer wrestling ,...

Thursday night was one for the books. I had the absolute pleasure of seeing  Moulin Rouge  at ASU Gammage, and from the very first beat, I was swept into the glittering, heart-thumping whirlwind of music, passion, and pure theatrical magic. The songs are still dancing in my head! But what made the night unforgettable wasn’t just what happened onstage—it was what surrounded it. All around the theater, four different galleries were filled with my Paris-inspired artwork—about 35 pieces in total. From the view above the ticket booth to the hallway near Portal 10, my photographs of rooftops, street cafés, churches, and markets—each a captured memory from the City of Light—were on display for all to see. To stand among those works during a show that celebrates the spirit of Paris? That was a high point in my life. Truly. Seeing guests stop, smile, and snap photos of the art filled me with gratitude and a deep sense of joy. I also ran into two coworkers, Lynn and Tami, and was so ple...