Hello from the Road

After a year of traveling abroad (off-and-mostly-on), we are back in the United States exploring our backyard and beyond. A recap of the first month:

• On March 26, we arrived in Seattle at midnight and spent the next 19 days catching up with old friends; visiting our doctors, dentists and physical therapists; and enjoying all that Seattle has to offer in the springtime.
• By Tax Day (April 15 for you international readers), we were headed south to see Josh's family in Oregon and then his brother and our nieces and nephew in Redding, California.
• 4/20 brought us back north to the Applegate Valley in Southern Oregon for some paragliding and welcome conversations with our pals there. It was like returning home after a year away and I was so thankful to reconnect with the community and landscape that helped nurse me back to health after my accident last year.
• The following Sunday, April 26, we said farewell to Oregon's wine country and drove the winding road past deer and redwood trees into coastal California. In my mind, our roadtrip began there, in Prairie Creek, California--having already driven more than 900 miles from our home base in Seattle, Washington.

One of several vistas we ogled on the drive along California's wild north coast. These yellow mustard flowers always remind me of my dad who, regardless of the times I picked bouquets for him, is allergic to them.

Prairie Creek

We arrived in the mid-afternoon on a sunny spring day. The golden grasses glowed in the fields, the redwood trees towered in the distance and we were in search of a campsite with a beach view and a flat place to pitch our tent. We settled for a slightly sloping sandy tent site protected on three sides by tall green bushes with a weather-beaten and camper-engraved picnic table just a short jaunt from the ocean. It was divine.

Our plush camping palace complete with plastic outdoor rug and plenty of space for us and our crap inside.

While I drew, Josh walked on the beach. Then together we loaded up into our overloaded Subaru and drove the couple miles to the start of the Fern Canyon trail.

We had to ford a couple streams to get out to the trailhead. Luckily, we didn't need to unpack our boat from the roof to make it.

More than a decade ago, Josh took me to Prairie Creek and Fern Canyon on a camping trip with his high school besties. That same trip, his friend Jonny declared us a perfect couple when I emerged from our tent wearing a dorky headlamp which matched the one Josh sported. Little did Jonny know that thousands of other practical outdoorsmen rely on headlamps, and little did we know that Jonny's declaration would be proven out over the following many years. But I digress.

The hike up Fern Canyon at the end of April this year was beautiful. The ferns flanked the hillsides--albeit not as densely as in pre-drought days--and the winding canyon and its creek provided amble opportunities for Josh to show off his strength as he piggybacked me over the wettest stretches. You see, although my feet are about 75% back to normal, I still need to wear sneakers when I hike, while Josh can skip upcreek in his trusty Chaco sandals.

My matching top and sneakers was a happy accident; the smile plastered on my face is the result of our adventurous life.

On our return to the car, we met an unperturbed juvenile elk peacefully grazing alongside the trail. For more than ten minutes we watched him chew green grass, pose for photos, and generally do his elk-thing while wild children and loud adults hiked past just feet away. I was amazed that a 800+ lb creature calmly devoured his vegetarian dinner while I gazed on. This was one of the highlights of my day and probably even of the week. What can I say? I love wildlife.

So I drew the elk and all his velvet-horned glory.

Back at camp that night we feasted on sausage and vegetables grilled in a single pan and eaten straight from it to avoid any unnecessary washing up. The evening ended with stars overhead and comfy sleeping bags beneath us. Our Western States road trip was off to a good start.

 

 

The Art of Travel

One of the joys of having 24 hours of day to do as I please is choosing to actually spend time doing the things I love. Like making art. I have been drawing, painting and otherwise crafting nearly my entire life. My parents enrolled me in after school art classes in elementary school and I took art as an elective class throughout junior high and high school. I even earned a 5 out of 6 on the International Baccalaurette Art exam (not quite perfect, but good enough!). And I will never forget the junior college art teacher who told me that I should pursue my line art in a Fine Arts program at a respected Unviersity.

Of course, I was much too sensible to go to art school. Instead I got my BA in Environmental Studies, after relizing that my initial major (Architecture) was not for me. It makes sense. I love nature and I don't want us humans to ruin it.

But I also love draw. Not surprisingly, I have drawn and painted a lot of nature landscapes and animals over the years.

And now, with all my extra free time, I have created a regular practice of drawing. For the last month, I have completed at least one drawing nearly every day. And in doing so, I have cultivated a sense of peace and satisfaction within my self. As luck would have it, my artwork is also bringing smiles to the faces of people I care about.

My "daily critters", as one friend calls them, are a happy tree in the sometimes-dark and hostile forest of social media. And they exist not just digitally, but on crisp white paper and inky black relief.

If you are wondering how you can get one of these little works of art for yourself, you'll have to wait awhile longer for the universe to share its answer. The devil is in the details and frankly I much prefer drawing to figuring out how to sell my art. But I did take one leap forward into the technological age of art. I put down my inky pen just long enough to digitally remaster two of my favorite drawings as t-shirt designs!

The moral of the story here is that having more time, means doing more of what you love, which opens up the possibility of sharing your passions and talents with others. And if the stars align in my favor, it might even lead to more time and funds for travel and doing all the things I love. A virtuous cycle indeed!

 

My kind of double-header

Today was a double-header and not of the baseball variety. One of the best things about being back in Seattle is knowing where to go to get my art fix.

First up today? Bellevue Art Museum. They have an exquisite exhibit of Madeleine Albright's pins. For those who don't already know, Madeleine Albright was the US' first woman Secretary of State (1997-2001). And she loved to wear pins and broches. In fact, she used them to communicate her intentions, disposition and feelings in diplomatic and political arenas. She wore pins with bees when she was feeling fiesty, angels and butterflies when she wanted to communicate hope, and lions when it was a time for courage.

In addition to adorning herself with animal pins, she also wore flowers, American flags and even a pin symbolizing the shattering of the glass ceiling. Suffice to say Madeline Albright is one of my heros and getting to see a smattering of her pin collection today was inspiring. Beyond the hidden (or not so hidden) messages in her selections, many of Madeleine Albright's pins are also impressive works of art. Like the 3-inch mosquito pin with moving parts, the articulated jaguar which she wore draped across her shoulder and the red modern-looking fox brooch.

Act two of my arts double-header today was a circus show put on by the talented IMPulse Collective. Through the telling of a story about the forgotten figments of our imagination, embodied in the imaginary friends that have been abandoned by their creators, the audience got to experience the joy of adults at play. The performers are all staff at the School of Acrobatics and New Circus Arts (SANCA) and the show included impressive juggling scenes, dramatic aerial silks and rope performances, contornism, a graceful dance routine with a huge metal hula hoop, among other hard-to-master routines.

The show's message about play, friendship and imagination hit home for me. I fondly recalled the aerial arts classes Josh and I took prior to our world travels and how I delighted in seeing what new tricks my body could do. Getting stronger and more fit had a purpose and that purpose was to play and enjoy life.

As Josh and I prepare to hit the road again, this time on a tour of national parks and beautiful places in America's Southwest, I am doubling down on my commitment to have fun and enjoy life. Be it by learning about the unconventional ways art can help us communicate with others, drawing animals in my various sketchbooks or playing outside like a little kid, I intend to seek happiness and enjoyment everyday.

I hope you will continue to join us on our journey to discover and follow our passions. And I hope you'll share your own adventures in finding happiness in the comments section of this blog, on Facebook or by emailing us.