Located in the Painted Desert of Northeast Arizona, the Petrified Forest was established, in part, to protect a vast deposit of petrified wood dating back to the Late Triassic period—roughly 200 million years ago. According to park administration, the preservation efforts have been an overwhelming success. In the more than one hundred years since its establishment in 1906, however, some visitors have still been unable to resist the urge to remove wood from the park. Some of these same visitors eventually return their ill gotten souvenirs by mail, accompanied by ‘conscience letters.’ The content of each letter varies, but writers often include stories of misfortune, attributed directly to their stolen petrified wood. Car troubles. Cats with cancer. Deaths of family members. For many, their hope is that by returning these rocks, good fortune will return to their lives. Other common themes include expressions of remorse, requests for forgiveness, and warnings to future visitors.
During the spring of 2011 on a chance trip to the Petrified Forest, I encountered a small display of these letters in the Rainbow Forest Museum. I was immediately drawn to them for their humor, heartbreak, and humility, and soon discovered that these few letters represented just a tiny fraction of the more than 1200 pages in the park’s archives. Despite the wishes expressed in the letters, and the best intentions of their authors, the returned rocks don’t quite make it back to their former homes — at least not in the way the senders may have hoped. Because of their unknown provenance, these specimens can not be scattered back in the park—to do so would be to spoil those sites for research purposes. They are instead added to the park’s ‘conscience pile,’ which sits alongside a private gravel service road, a bit of dramatic irony that only furthered my interest in the phenomenon. And so, with a rough idea for this book, Phil and I returned during the summer of 2012 to begin reading through the conscience letter archive and to photograph the returned and confiscated rocks. Included here is our selection of some of the most intriguing, engaging, and beautiful letters, along with photographs from the conscience pile.
The publication of Bad Luck, Hot Rocks coincides with an increasing attentiveness to larger geologic forces in our everyday lives. With many scientists suggesting the formal adaptation of an ‘Anthropocene’ epoch, we seem more aware than ever of the effects our personal and collective actions on the natural world. The oldest letter in the archive dates back to 1934, and now, 80 years after that letter was received, the conscience letters reflect this shifting awareness, both directly and indirectly, through writing that is at turns humorous, tragic, superstitious, and profound.
Ryan Thompson | 2014
Selected Press & Reviews
Printed Matter Staff Favorites (Dec ‘14)
Ryan Thompson lives and works in Chicago, IL where he is an artist and Associate Professor of Art & Design at Trinity Christian College. His current research examines various powers humans ascribe to the events and ephemera of the geologic. His work has been exhibited at places such as: EYEBEAM (New York), Gallery Analix Forever (Geneva), Links Hall (Chicago), Lothringer 13 Halle (Munich), Evanston Art Center (Chicago), Root Division (San Francisco), Mila Kunstgalerie (Berlin), and Lease Agreement (Baltimore, MD). More at: http://departmentofnaturalhistory.com
Phil Orr loves building things, particularly out of the discarded, salvaged, unwanted, or forgotten. Much of his work focuses on these objects and the complex relationships surrounding them. He makes a living as a carpenter in Urbana, Illinois where he lives with his growing family.
Thanks to the staff of Petrified Forest for their assistance with the conscience letter archive. Without them this project would not be possible. Thanks to the Puffin Foundation and Trinity Christian College for their grants in support of this project.
The ‘conscience pile’ at the Petrified Forest National Park.