A cross country oil painting tour celebrating my freedom and those who defend it.
Michigan
October 4, 2008 Driving north a short distance I cross into Michigan, the one state in the continetal US that I have never visited. When I envisioned this trip, my plan was to go across the Upper Peninsula into Wisconsin. My first stop is to get some medicine for what is apparently going to be my only traveling companion - a cold. I hate zinc tablets but I am determined to fight this at the onset, popping tablets and eating french fries to avoid the inevitable stomach ache they cause. (So begins my healthy travel diet) I divert onto several side roads and take pictures but have not found that perfect painting setting. As I feel the congestion getting worse and begin to battle a headache, I decide to just find something to paint while it is still warm outside. Heading northwest I begin to enter rolling hills and vineyards and after some treks down dirt roads, I find a good place to park and a neat little road next to some fall colored vineyards to paint. I only do a 6 x 8 because I am feeling very tired but I am not too unsatisfied with it. Finding rolling hills and vineyards was such a surprise and it adds to my belief that the US has these wonderful secrets in every state that you can only find by seat-of-your-pants travel. I go further northwest to South Haven on Lake Michigan and then turn south through Benton Harbor continuing to take pictures for later paintings. I would stay an extra day but the forecast is for rain and I know my sunny days are limited. Michigan will have to wait for another visit to see the north which I hear is remarkably beautiful. I have to get around Chicago and hope to get far enough to paint Illinois and Wisconsin the following day. It feels good to get to a hotel, knock myself out with Nyquil and get a good night's sleep.
This year I bought a 24' RV with the simple idea of touring the country and painting. Along the way I became very aware of how blessed I was to be able to do what I loved. I've lived in countries where crossing a state or provincial border required documents or bribes and doing so as a woman alone would be unthinkable. We tend to take these things for granted, but on this trip, in seeing the small towns and their history, I became acutely aware of how many people's shoulders I was standing on. My companion on the first part of the trip would be my 14 year old cat, Picaboo who is affectionately called Boo. In February of 2008 I added a 9 year old rescue dog named Holly.