CONNECTING WATERS
A collaboration with Sonoran Institute

[2025]

Sometimes, that which we are connected to and that sustains our lives is hidden. We can practice learning to see how all parts connect -- even in times of great fragmentation, life remains linked. Vitality waits underground for the right conditions.

I grew up eleven miles from the confluence of the Santa Cruz River and the Gila River. Living there, I knew the magic of much of the desert ecosystem but wasn't aware of the presence of these rivers. Nobody I knew spoke of them, but I unknowingly followed the thread of the Santa Cruz for much of my life, having lived years along México's Gulf of California (connected by way of the Gila and Colorado) and later Tucson, Arizona.

Depending on who you are and where you look in the Tucson area, you'll notice drastically different things about the Santa Cruz River. In certain areas, the river is bone dry, full of trash, and high concrete walls line the edges, prohibiting riparian plant growth and wildlife passage if there was enough water to support such life. What was once visibly central to this region wears some level of invisibility, disregard, and the impacts of years of mistreatment. Other reaches, however, are radiant and very much alive. Cottonwoods and willows, mesquite bosques, animal tracks and birdsong, flowing water, and humans appreciating the beauty. A ghost come back to life.

The Santa Cruz River holds profound ecological, cultural, and social value while being a true example of connectivity, as it links three nations while flowing through Arizona, the Tohono O’odham Nation, and Sonora, México -- from its origins in the San Rafael Valley in southern Arizona, crossing the US-México border twice, to the confluence of the Gila River on the southwest edge of Phoenix. The river is a vital passageway for migrating animals and hosts habitat for an incredible diversity of life. In the Tucson area, the river and underlying aquifer that held water for more than 12,000 years dried up in response to colonial surface and groundwater over-pumping in the mid-20th century. The impact was so significant, the Santa Cruz was listed as one of America’s Most Endangered Rivers.

Vitality remained dormant however, waiting for water. Through recent revitalization efforts of many organizations and groups, the flow of water (highly treated effluent) has been reinstated along some parts of the river, initiating a transformation for the better. There have also been some successful efforts to reintroduce native plants and animals, many of them having returned on their own after the water began to flow again. These flowing stretches are not guaranteed to remain, however, and require much dedication and prioritization on many levels. Steps taken to create an Urban National Wildlife Refuge and the success of the Heritage Project Site are some among those efforts.

Upon receiving a grant from Arts Foundation for Tucson and Southern Arizona, I was delighted to team up with Sonoran Institute, an organization that has been working toward connecting people and communities with natural systems that nourish and sustain them in the Colorado River Basin for 35 years. In the Tucson area, their work is centered on conservation of the Santa Cruz. Four illustrations were created that highlight diverse habitats and species on the river. Each drawing connects at several points when lined up -- a representation of its ecological connectivity. They all seek to make the river more visible.

In February of 2025, we held a community event and drawing workshop on the Santa Cruz. Sonoran Institute spoke about its history and ecology and we then spent hours practicing drawing together, pulling inspiration from the natural landscape. Participants shared their sketches and also shared some reflections on what they noticed while attentively drawing. Some of those reflections (paraphrased) include:

Sometimes we cannot see or access everything that we'd like to -- the river creates some natural barriers, allowing us to experience some of its beauty while keeping some aspects hidden. It doesn't reveal everything. We must move with humility.

It's difficult not to notice that some ways that humans relate to the river is through leaving trash here. It brings us artists to the question of how do we want to represent this area? Do we only draw the river in a pristine state? Or should we be sketching trash, too?

The energy and the tone of the river changed just as we did throughout the time we were here. The Santa Cruz is a social body of water -- dynamic just as we are. We are part of the hydrosocial cycle; our connection with the river is intricate; water and society, in many ways, reflect one another.