My Angel.

I have written about the kindness of people over and over since I started this adventure. Every time I'm on the receiving end of a random act of kindness from a stranger it confirms my suspicions that the world is made up of amazing individuals; it's not the scary world we see on TV.

If you've been with me since the beginning you may remember the mystery man who appeared at my last yard sale and handed me an envelope with a donation for my trip. To refresh, a gentleman approached me, I introduced myself and he replied by saying who he was was not important. We talked about travel and he briefly shared some of his own experiences. He handed me an envelope, told me to put it in a safe place and wished me well on my travels. He was not someone I knew and was very clear on remaining anonymous. Rarely do you see someone make such a gesture and absolutely refuse any kind of praise or recognition. My father says there's a name for someone who secretly gives (it appears in his crosswords a lot); angel.

Yesterday the mystery man struck again, this time in the form of a mystery woman. She walked into Argyle Fine Art and handed over an envelope with my name on it while keeping her lips sealed. When asked if the envelop should be passed on to me she replied simply, yes. When asked if she's like to say who it is from she said nothing, quietly slipping out the door. Inside was a donation and another vintage postcard with a similar message as the first; "for your next trip, vaya con dios".

(I hope by publishing images of the postcards I'm not risking the anonymity of my donators.)

I'm still in a state of shock.  Yes, the donation will be put to good use but it really is the gesture that brings me to tears. There must be something about what I originally considered a selfish venture that has struck a cord with these two individuals. I know from emails I have received that what people are relating to is the idea of freedom. People's letters talk about how they traveled when they were younger or they always wanted to travel but 'life got in the way'. The barter van blog is a way for them to live vicariously through me. I had no idea starting out how many people have similar dreams of the open road and how few actually get the opportunity to do it. I thank my lucky stars every day and never forget those who support me and cheer me on as I get ready for the next adventure.

Whoever and wherever you are I hope you are reading this. Thank you isn't near a strong enough sentiment for what you have done.

You are my angels.

Do you have an angel in your life or have you been one to someone else?

Opening night and other ramblings.

Panoramic photo by Crystal Ross

It's a few days after the opening reception of my show and I have the all so familiar feelings I get after all the excitement is over.  I am someone who always needs a project so after months and months of working towards making this exhibition happen I am now kind of projectless; for now. I get a bit of a post opening blues but don't get me wrong, it's nothing serious. It's almost like when an adrenaline-inducing roller coaster slowly comes to an end. Or like raising children and then sending them off into the world to see what happens. (ok, not actually, but I think you get the gist of the metaphor) It is both exciting and makes one vulnerable. I wouldn't trade any of this roller coaster though and will most definitely be doing it as long as I'm able.

The reception was wonderful and I am so fortunate to have support and interest in what I'm doing. I saw lots of familiar faces and had the opportunity to meet some new people who are very involved in the arts here. Sometimes a simple conversation can bring about some new ideas and I will be working on some new things very soon. The most important being revisiting the Barter Van concept and gearing it towards trading with artists of all genres instead of the general public who need to pay their bills and aren't necessarily interested in art. As much of a loner as I am I'm beginning to understand how important it is to have people to bounce ideas off of and I think interacting with creative people will make my next venture out all that much more inspiring. But more on that later.

One of my favorite things about my travels and this show is the stories other people tell me of their own past adventures or future plans. My choice to give up my belongings and comforts have inspired people to follow their own dreams. This, in particular, is a wonderful feeling since I have been inspired by so many myself. Sometimes I have to pinch myself. I'm still floored when someone likes what I've made enough to purchase it and have it in their lives. I don't think I will ever get used to that. It's surprising and flattering every time. There's nothing quite like actually living out your biggest dream. It can be done.

Next up in my plans is to put this hide-a-way house back to it's cozy self. I have to start packing up all my materials and load the van back up for this coming weekend when I will be moving in with some friends for a while. I'll be starting work with my sister's moving company and in my spare time revamping the barter van concept. I would love to get back on the road for June but I think that's quite optimistic. Even so, it's important for me to set a date and work towards it. Someone asked me at the reception if I'm panicked or worried about my future. The answer is no. You would think being homeless with an empty bank account would cause some panic but it doesn't. My answer is that I'm lucky enough to have the support of my friends and family and no matter what happens I won't end up on the street. That's all I need to know to have the confidence to keep pushing forward. Plus, I'm just getting started!!

Two weeks till show time.

It's been quite a while since I've popped by my blog. As you can imagine I've been spending all my time putting together my exhibition, which I titled Roadside America. Working away today, I had the realization this is the first time I've had the luxury of preparing a show without having to work a day job. No wonder my stress level has been low. Well, relatively low. There's always numerous silly little technical difficulties that happen to make you slightly panicky but to be able to deal with each issue immediately is a gift.

Along with working on the exhibition pieces I've put together a map showing my route across America and back. I photographed the actual maps I used and pieced them together in Photoshop, lining up the highlighted drive. While traveling I encountered many people who were shocked that I didn't have a GPS. They couldn't believe I wasn't getting lost but the truth was I did get lost, quite a bit, but it often lead to me seeing something cool or talking to someone interesting. So, I became much better at reading maps and knowing my north from my south and east from west. A handy thing to know.

I thought it would be interesting to use the compiled maps to indicate where I took the original photographs used in the final pieces. (In the map above the images are blurred. A good friend of mine has been doing her best not to see any of the images beforehand.  I wouldn't want to ruin the surprise for her now would I?) The map will be on display during the length of the show to highlight my route and to lend context to the work. Looking at the map now all I see are the places I haven't been yet; so much left to explore. Soon. Fingers crossed..

I hope people have the time to come say hi to me during the opening reception of American Roadside. It will be at Argyle Fine Art, 1559 Barrington Street Halifax, Nova Scotia from 7-9pm on Friday, March 22nd. 

From the city to a van to the country.

One thing about hibernating and being on my own for a long time is I have oodles of time to think about things, something I spend a lot of time doing anyway. First, I wonder if I should keep writing this blog when I'm not actually traveling or living in my van. I feel like I'm still on the journey though so I figure I'll touch base when I have something I want to share. After all, I am still in the midst of working through the realities of my life long dream to travel and make art.

I've been thinking about adaptability. This past year of my life has been a lot about adapting to situations and being happy to do so. I have gone from being a 40 hour a week, bachelor apartment dweller in the city, to living and traveling in a van with a dog, to hibernating on the wintry shore of Nova Scotia in a quiet little village. I have stayed with strangers, close friends and family and have felt at ease in all places. Now, in this wonderful little house, I am feeling right at home.

This part of the journey feels like a test run for how I envisioned my future. I have dreamed about living away from the city, but close enough to commute, and working solely on my own art. For the past week that's exactly what I've been doing. My routine has been get up, make coffee, work for a couple hours, take Okie for a walk (if it's not bloody freezing out), work some more, make a big pot of something, work till bed then read. I treat my own work like a regular job. I put in at least an 8 hour day and most often times much more than that. I have chores which are new to me here. There is a lovely wood stove so I have to bring in fire wood and kindling from the basement as well as pile wet wood from the outside into the basement to dry. The wind here can be quite brutal so I've learned quickly when I get a calm day I get outside. It's my first time doing this kind of thing and it makes me feel good to get off my lazy but and do something physical.

House I'm renting

Nanny's watching.

A beautiful walk/break.

When I dreamed about living like this I questioned whether I would be disciplined enough to put in the hours like a regular job. Apparently I have the opposite problem where I don't get away from my computer enough. Okie has taken to sitting at my feet and lightly growling for me to take her for a walk or play. Life is boring here for a little dog who's used to being on the move. (not that she's not spoiled with toys, it looks like a daycare in here).

Having a deadline for my work helps motivate me a lot. I am a perfectionist so knowing I have a timeline forces me to complete things. I've picked a corner of the house to set up a work space where there's lots of light and a big table. I'm the luckiest person alive to be able to do what I've been doing and if I can make the rest of my life resemble the last six months I've achieved my dream.

Studio nook.

Savannah. Two nights for $12.

The first great thing about Savannah, Georgia, is I can park my van at the Visitors Center for 48 hours to the tune of $12. The building is next door to the art college's gallery as well as 10 blocks to the historic river front downtown. I love being able to leave my van in a safe place, call it home, and go out for walks in a new city.

At one point while driving there I had to come onto the breaks, hard, sending the items stored under my bed flying through the hatch and crashing forward between the seats. I thought, 'well, this can't happen', so I stopped at an Ace Hardware to buy a hinge. What started out as a simple fix became an hour long back and forth with one of the employees. But, we did figured it out and I felt better having fixed the problem.

I also stopped at "Artistic Taxidermy Shop and Museum" to look around and take some photos. I made the mistake of getting into a conversation with the owner about hunting, consequently keeping me stuck there for 15 minutes longer than I wanted to be. I should probably learn to keep my mouth shut sometimes.

On arriving in Savannah, I parked the van and we toured the southern historic district on foot. It is similar to New Orleans' French Quarter but smaller and cleaner. You can buy a drink, daiquiris are the specialty, and take it along for the walk. The same as in New Orleans. This also produces drunk, loud puking people, however on a much smaller, more tolerable scale. It's a very pretty place and I feel quite safe everywhere I've walked. I've been very good at keeping a low budget. I've been doing as many free activities as possible. So far I've managed to spend about $10 on beverages, including the $5 coffee I treated myself to at the coffee/wi-fi spot I'm writing from. The rest of the time is spent walking, sitting in a park or window shopping.

Today we took a little road trip to Tybee Island which is toted as an artistic island with a 3.5 mile length. We took an illegal stroll a short ways on the beach; dogs aren't allowed anywhere there it seems. I meandered along the shop-lined streets but didn't feel too inspired to shop. The one place I found that I did browse in was just on the outskirts of downtown, on my way back. They had pile of stuff to go through and I was very tempted to but a an old neon sign letter but I restrained myself. It was a red letter C and it was lovely. Alas, there is no shopping for unnecessary things when you live in a van. Sigh. Back into Savannah I took Okie to the big park and sat in the sun with her tied to a long lead so she could explore and eat things. Just before we get up to go, a photo student and her friends come over and ask if they can photograph Okie. She's using a film camera and shooting black and white and developing it herself! Hallelujah!! I didn't think schools taught film anymore. I'm thrilled and of course Okie hams it up for them.

I like it here. The east coast of Georgia is full of swampy lands, island, rivers and bridges. The city is easy to navigate. Either I'm getting better at this or it's really well planned. Back on the road tomorrow. South Carolina bound.

Coincidences?

I have talked before about coincidences and the universe, or whatever it is, providing me with what I need, even when I don't realize what I'm asking for. Remember the cabin at the Grand Canyon I was given just when I was starting to feel a bit lost on the road? Or Okie showing up in my life after I had to give up the dog I adopted to join me for my journey? There are countless examples of this...and here's another one.

My original plan was to stay with my good friends and their family from February until I was ready to head back out on the road. Three days ago I received an email from my ex-boss asking where I was going to stay when I return home. Her house was available to rent if I needed it. I thanked her for the offer but told her I had already made arrangements. The next day Adriana, the owner of Argyle Fine Art, emailed and informed me three of my pieces at the gallery sold. Great news, I thought, knowing I could use that money during my stay. Not to mention it's always very flattering when someone likes something I've made enough to purchase it and hang it on their wall.

So, yesterday I was feeling a bit restless and decided to take Okie and I on a hike. There are tons of  bird trails here so I didn't have to go far. During our walk I reflected on what I was told about meditating recently. I have never invested much time in meditation even though I know someone like me could sure benefit from it. This person put it to me a different way which I could relate to more. Instead of sitting in silence and trying to let your mind go, she takes time during whatever she's doing, say, during a conversation, and reminds herself she is in the moment; ie, my foot is moving, the air smells flowery, I'm holding a cup of coffee, and so on. For her, it brings her into the exact moment she is living in and helps her feel more connected to the now. As I walked, I tried her technique and it works well for me. Knowing I'm leaving so soon has made me wish I had this practice earlier. I believe it helped me realize my new plan.

As I walked all the pieces of the puzzle fell into place. Why hadn't I thought of this already? The money from my recent sales at the gallery could pay for renting the house. This would give me a studio space to work, so to speak, and all the quiet I could handle in order to create the type of work I want. After my exhibition opening in March I will move into my friends place for two months with a clear head and no distractions. I can simply enjoy their company and hopefully pick up some paid work. Adding to this amazing conclusion is the fact my boss' tenants were originally going to stay until March but recently decided to leave the end of January, just in time for me to arrive.

I can't begin to tell you how amazing it all is that this has come together. It's another example of how envisioning what you want and working towards it helps make it happen. I didn't know I needed a place all to myself for a couple months while putting the show together but now that it has been offered it's EXACTLY what I need. Thanks again Universe. I won't let you down.

Preparing to go....again.

As I prepare to make the trek back to Nova Scotia I have a flood of memories from the past four months. It's been an amazing journey and it's hard to accept this part is coming to and end, but with an end there is also a new beginning.

I had originally planned to head straight home without wandering or exploring, due to dwindling funds, but I am now reconsidering. I was reminded by my step-mother that if I choose to do that my journey actually ended a month ago when I arrived in Florida.  I have had some wonderful adventures here as well, ie hanging with Larry in the Everglades, but I have mostly been working day in and day out on creating new work. My representing gallery, Argyle Fine Art, has a group exhibition every January called Pre-Shrunk. Every submitted piece measures 4x5 inches and it attracts all kinds of artists form all sorts of disciplines. I spent the better part of December creating new work to submit to the show and finally got them sent off in the mail. The new pieces for my donators are also on their way to their new homes. Thanks once again to all of you!

Adding a patina to the aluminum with Muriatic acid.

Finished pieces.

I am heading home a month earlier than I had intended so I can work on a new exhibition, opening March 22nd at Argyle, featuring images from this journey. I am excited to have the opportunity to show new stuff and have been working very diligently to make it happen while trying to ignore the fact that it's hot and sunny outside. As I keep telling myself though, there are worse things than having to stay inside to work on my art. This is all such a dream come true and I can't wait to get back in the studio, when I find one that is. The last time I put together a show I used the barter system to gain access to a studio. I traded a bike I wasn't using for the use of my friends studio space. (Maybe that's where the barter van idea originally came from) I love it when two people get something they want without having to dig into their pockets.

The time has flown but I have no regrets and am so grateful for everything I've experienced, both good and bad. I was once told a long time ago that life will flow much easier when you're not fighting against the tide. When you follow the path you truly want and not what you think you should do. Now, I'm not saying these past five months have entirely been a walk in the park but it sure seems like everything is working out fairly close to the way I imagined. I would dare to say even better than I could have hoped.

So, the van is washed and my father reattached the front bumper, which I just noticed had rusted off on the drivers side. My art supplies have been put back in the van, I've pulled out my gloves and winter hat and I have all the emergency road condition numbers written down. I have enjoyed so much spending time here this last month and while I am sad to be leaving my folks, and all their spoiling of me, I'm looking forward to seeing all the people at home who have stayed with me and supported my crazy endeavors. As much as I am a loner, I could never have done any of this without the strong support system I have.

Now I just have to mentally prepare myself for the cold weather. I can't wait to see what Okie thinks of snow!

A trail in the Everglades is not necessarily a trail.

After spending the night camping too close to other people for our liking we head to the most remote camping spot on the map. It's a free site which makes it all the more better. With a van full of provisions we head down the 25 mile dirt road to a hidden spot where we'll set up home for a few days. It's what's referred to as primitive camping without power or water hook-up.

On the way there Larry is excitedly looking for any kind of reptile he can interact with. There are alligators lining the road on both sides and birds galore but what he really wants to find are snakes. Before becoming a hobo he raised and bred reptiles. With a shout of "STOP, STOP, STOP!" I just barley break in time to avoid running over our first snake. Larry jumps out before we are even at a full stop and before I can blink he has the snake in his hand. I'm not afraid of snakes but I certainly wouldn't go picking them up without the experience of knowing how to handle one. Have you ever seen such a happy person?!

The next morning we he makes a big breakfast of oatmeal and bananas, I pack a lunch and some water and we head out on what we think will be a day hike in the Everglades. I talked to the ranger at the gate and he gave me a map of the trails and told us where to start. Now, let me just say we may not be the brightest tourists but in our defense it looked like the trails would be marked and easy to follow. I mean, there's a map of them after all. We set out at 10:30. In the beginning we are excited to notice every bug, plant, lizard and bird we see. We walk thorough tall grass, between pine trees, under palm trees and through cypress swamp all the while happily chatting about what we see.

I'm guessing we lost the trail after we walked through this area of swamp. The trail posts we found after wading up to our thighs in water had either rusted so bad the tags were gone or melted into an unrecognizable twisted mess. It was about 3:30 and we would be out of sunlight soon. After  trying to retrace our steps several times I was terribly turned around and everything looked the same. Larry looked at me and gave me two choices. We either continue to try and find the swamp we walked through and therefore get back on the trail or I follow him while he makes his own way out. "But you don't know what's out there" I say. "No, I don't" he replies. I'm calm on the outside but inside I'm convinced we are going to die out there with no ID on either one of us to identify the bodies. We didn't even have matches to start a fire! With clenched teeth I agree to follow his instincts. He excitedly starts off towards the sunset. We had the sun to our back on the way in so it made sense to have it in front of us on the way out. I follow him in silence for what seems like forever and then I ask him, "are you not panicked at all?" Picking some kind of plant, he replies, "no, I don't panic until the end" and he smiles. I have to admit his calmness and confidence helped me keep my own worries in check. The only thing I could do to help get us out was to follow in silence and not freak out at him.

Then came the sound of cars. The highway! A half hour later we reached the road, but where the heck were we? This was not anywhere near where we entered the 'trail'. Luckily there was a map where we exited as it was an entrance for wilderness camping. We would have to walk about 5 miles up the interstate and then hop a tall, barbed wire fence to get back into the preserve and then walk another 4 or 5 miles up the dirt road to our site. We were both soaked and muddy from the knees down. My rubber boots were almost filled to the top with swampy water and the air was getting colder with the disappearing sun. We set off walking anyway. There was no choice. Okie had been in the van all day and I worried about her.

We walked maybe a mile or so when I heard a vehicle pull over behind us. It was Alberto, a Road Ranger, stopping to find out why we were walking on the I-75 when it's illegal to do so. We told him our story and he wasn't surprised by it. Not long ago a Norwegian man got lost for 2 days in the Everglades.

Alberto called a Highway Patrol car to come take us back to Bear Island. While we waited he offered Larry a sweater and me some chocolate. He had a bag of bars with him because he was trying to quit smoking and thought they would help. He shared many stories with us about other people he had found along the road while we waited for the patrol officer. Jason arrived within a half hour and he drove us to the entrance of the campground, leaving us to walk the one mile or so left to get to our site. It was the longest mile I've ever walked and the happiest I've ever been to put on dry socks.

In the morning we decide we'd seen all we want to see of our current location so we drove further down the 41 and enter the Collier-Seminole State Part in Ten Thousand Islands area. Once again we are told there are no camping spots left but after talking to them for a few minutes they decide to put us in the youth group camping site all by ourselves. We were the happiest campers there I swear. We had a huge area all to ourselves with our own driveway. We are both ridiculously lucky people.

As we sat drinking and chatting over the fire that night we hear various shouts of happy new year from the campers outside our little haven. Both of us are surprised it had gotten so late. We wish each other a happy new year and I run off to bed to get away from the relentless mosquitoes. By the end of our adventure we are both bitten pretty badly up and down our limbs. We celebrate the new year the next day with a canoe trip down the canals. It's a perfect day. The sun is shining, the water is calm and we are happy to paddle our way through our hangovers.

For the second time I drop him off at the edge of town and watch him disappear into the woods. This time he heads towards his home. I beep the horn and wave good-bye while Okie barks out her own farewell. She really likes that guy. It's a hard thing coming to realize I will very likely never see him again. I am very grateful to have made such a friend and enjoyed traveling with him. I remember saying before I left home I couldn't imagine finding someone who would want to travel the way I do. Larry is that person and I enjoyed our time together. I wish him the best of luck finding his way and hope we will never lose touch completely.

The hitchhiker returns.

My thoughts were on Larry the Hitchhiker as the holidays approached.  He would be spending Christmas alone in a tent. I asked my folks if he could join our family dinner and they agreed it would be a nice thing to do. He accepted my offer but refused to let me pick him up; he is currently residing in Naples, just over 100 miles south. So, he thumbed his way back north and made it here by Christmas eve. He fit in like he was part of the family and enjoyed being fed till he burst. My step-mom said to me at one point, "this is what the spirit of Christmas is supposed to be about, giving to someone who doesn't have anything." I couldn't agree more. We all woke Christmas morning, gave each other no gifts at all and shared a wonderful breakfast complete with orange juice made from the tangerines picked off the tree out back. I have been trying for years for to get my family to do away with giving gifts, except for the kids. Was it weird waking up to no gifts? No, I think just made us focus on each other instead. For the first time in years we had a big traditional Danish Christmas dinner and invited three couples from the community to join us. The meal was wonderful and everyone enjoyed taking part in our tradition.

I pitched the idea of going down to the Everglades for New Years to Larry and he was more than up for it. He is experienced when it comes to camping and reptiles and I couldn't think of a better person to explore that area with. We left on the 27th and headed down the east coast, camping the first night near the Coast of the Atlantic ocean. In the morning we swam in 72 degree ocean water. Quite a difference from the Atlantic waters off the coast of Nova Scotia! We were the only ones in the water and obviously tourists since it's too cold at that temperature for the locals.

It took us two days to reach highway 41 which cuts from east to west with the Everglades to south and the Cypress National Preserve to the north. It's getting dark quickly so we pull over at the first camping sign we see in Gatorland. The female park ranger informs us we need to be in a self-contained unit with a bathroom to camp there. Now, I am a firm believer if you continue talking and maintain a friendly demeanor people are more likely to help you. I know when I was in retail I would go above and beyond to help someone if they were nice to me and only do the bare minimum for a person who wasn't. So, I began to explain to her that my van is equipped with a bathroom and we only need one nights accommodation. She brought out her husband to talk it over with us and said it would be $32. Well, both Larry and I expressed with a sigh how expensive that is for us and as we got into some small talk with them they seemed to have a change of heart.  They told us down the road is some free camping and if there's no spots available they would let us camp there for $10. It's not the first or last time we are somehow able to talk our way into getting a spot.

Favorite sign on the way south.

Camping at monument lake.

The real adventure begins the following day when we head to the most remote free camping site on the map. To keep this post from getting too long I'll continue the story in the next post where I'll tell you about Larry picking up snakes from the road and how we got lost in the Everglades and had to be brought back to our campsite by highway patrol.......

It's time to get down to business.

I've been at my folks place in Florida for a week now and have begun editing my photos and putting together new works to send home to Argyle Fine Art. I am feeling very fortunate to be at a place in my 'career' where I have a gallery willing to take my art. It really is a dream come true.

When I first arrived I tried to dive head first into making new work. I tend to put unnecessary pressure on myself, especially when people have already paid for pieces I haven't actually made yet.  Well, as you can probably imagine, I had a bit of a panic attack. I can't expect myself to go from being on the move every day for three months to immediately churning out new work. So after taking a couple of days to run some errands, eat oranges from the trees out back and easing into staying put I am now back on track. I am getting some commissions done and there will be new stuff at Argyle for the Pre-Shrunk show in January.

Spending time organizing the hundreds and hundreds of photos I've taken isn't all business though. The past three months have all blended together and sorting through my pictures brings back memories I've already forgotten. I have lots of time for reflection and in a month will be back on the road. Before I left I assumed many things. I pictured myself foraging through the woods for greens to eat, camping by rivers or lakes for weeks on end and making extra money washing dishes or doing odd jobs. I have done none of these things. The romanticizing I did about this journey is just that, romantic and unrealistic. The realities of traveling are completely different, for me at least. Yes, I'm sure I could have done all of these things but it's not who I am. I think part of anyone's success in life is knowing who you really are and not who you want to be. I'm not the kind of person who feels comfortable walking into a place and asking for work. Larry the hitchhiker is. He has taken many little jobs along his way to keep going and is perfectly comfortable doing so. He would approach people for rides or ask for help and was almost always met with kindness. I admire what he's doing but, as I said, it's not me.

I've had to discover who I truly am, accept it and work within it. I am not someone who is going to walk across the continent. I don't want to sleep in a tent in the woods for weeks on end or rely on knowing what's edible in the forest. I want my perked coffee in the morning and a hot meal at night. I like my small creature comforts. It's hard for me to admit I'm not as worldly as I like to think I am. I know it's all relative and some would disagree with me. I guess what I'm trying to say is I now know what my limits are and what I'm comfortable with, even if it's not what I thought before I set out. No matter how well you think you know yourself there's always more to know and spending three months on the road by yourself will surely bring some new things to light.

Part 2; swimming with manatees & drinking with carnies.

In the morning the hitchhiker and I wake early and make coffee. I perk my coffee in an old perk given to me by a friend. Larry usually lives off of instant so it’s a big treat for him. While I’m packing up the van he brings me the only thing he has that resembles a birthday cake, a strawberry newton,  and tells me to make a wish. This small gesture means more to me than he knows.

Packed up and ready to go, we head into the small town of Crystal River. A friend informed me about the opportunity of swimming with manatees there. The first place we find is way too expensive so I decided not to give myself that birthday present. Funny how things work out. I turned onto a side street to get us traveling back in the right direction and in front of me is another dive shop. I think, what the hell, I’ll check their prices. Right off the bat they were much nicer than the first place and so eager to have us join in. Their price was extremely reasonable so I sign us both up. Needless to say Larry is up for it.

By this point I’m literally jumping for joy and can’t wait to get my wetsuit on. Neither of us have ever done anything like this before. Once out in the water we are told to spread out and simply float on the surface, letting them come to us. Manatees are amazingly big and graceful animals. They are friendly and curious about us. I have no photographs to share of this experience but the memories and images in my head will never fade. I can tell you they feel like an elephant, with rough skin and bristles. Our guide made sure I had some quality time with one of them for my birthday. He called me over and showed me if you rub their belly they will roll on their back for you. I believe I also got a kiss from one. What a wonderful and peaceful way to start my birthday day.

From there we drive and drive further south down the coast. My folks asked me to pick up some Danish schnapps for our Christmas dinner at one of the towns along the way. I was having trouble finding the store so we pulled over at a Krispy Kreme to grab a coffee and ask for directions. At the liquor store I go for my wallet and it’s not there. It’s at Krispy Kreme, seven miles back!! Needless to say I am not impressed with myself. I had just taken out a bunch of money and not only that, I have everything I need in my wallet. Speeding back, Larry is convinced my wallet will still be sitting in the bathroom. He says, “someone as nice as you ought to have racked up enough good karma. It will be there.” And it was. All the money still in it.

For my birthday I wanted to be at a place called Gibsonton, otherwise known as Showtown America. It has a long history of being the vacation spot of carnival workers. I loved the idea of being in a small town with an interesting history to celebrate getting one year older. Gibtown looks just like any other nondescript small town along the highway except for this bar. Even if I hadn’t read about this place years ago I would have stopped to take photos. I won’t go into a lot of detail here about the history of the place but you can follow the link above or watch this video made by Seth Gadsden.

Painted to look like a half-door.	Another fake door. It's hard to find the real entrance.

Gibsonton has been described as a rough place, and maybe it is, but I can say we were welcomed with open arms. Ok maybe not right away but as we struck up conversations with Kim the bartender and Mr. Ozark, third generation owner of Showtown Bar, they became curious about us. Why were we there? Where were we from? Did we know the history of the town? It was fun to see the look on their faces when I told them I’m from Nova Scotia and this guy to my left is a hitchhiker I picked up the day before. Four beer in I hear the DJ announce, “This one goes out to the birthday girl, Angela, who turns 21 today!” 50 Cent, In Da Club (it’s your birthday) comes blaring out of the speakers.

I couldn't have asked for a better birthday on the road. I had a fun and interesting person to celebrate with and I was where I wanted to be. Before the night was over the owner of the bar took this shot of Larry and I. It's the only one I have of the two of us.

Next, saying goodbye to my new nomadic friend.
To be continued……..

Louisiana and beyond

I had a great time in Louisiana but I have to say I've never driven on such terrible roads. I'm always looking for a place that screams home and even though I enjoyed myself in New Orleans it isn't on my list of places I would stay. The whole state is messy with garbage and I didn't feel 100% safe walking around. I don't understand why people need to throw their litter all over the place. It's one thing that has bothered me throughout this whole trip. Even in national parks, I can be standing in the most spectacular landscape and at my feet is a discarded bottle or can. If I had one constant gripe while traveling it would be that.

Driving out of New Orleans you can still see the remnants of both hurricane Katrina and hurricane Isaac. Off to the side of I-10 I saw a whole business area which looked abandoned so I decided to investigate. There was a theater, some office buildings and department stores all smashed and boarded up. This is what I saw.

After leaving there I came across an abandoned hospital. The doors were wide open and the place was completely empty. I had a conversation with someone about the ethics of being an urban explorer. It's an unwritten rule that you enter and leave a place without disturbing anything. I hate to see people destroying a place but on the other hand I do love the graffiti. In the case of this place it made it all the more photogenic.

Now I'm in Florida and about to take a break from the first lag of my trip to work on some pieces to send home to Argyle Fine Art. I am looking forward to staying put for a while and working on the hundreds of photographs I've taken in the last three months. It has all become a bit of a blur but I know memories will come flooding back as I go through and edit what I've recorded. I continue to thank my lucky stars for the life I am leading and don't take a single day for granted.

Trusting my gut and staying safe.

I get asked a lot if there have been times I've felt unsafe or threatened and I can honestly say I can count the times on one hand. In three months of travel I have accepted help from a lot of people and only turned down a couple. I  may have missed out on great opportunities by declining an offer but as the saying goes, I would rather be safe than sorry.

Friends have told me they don't know if they could be as trusting as I am but when you are traveling and living from moment to moment I think you may surprise yourself. The kindness of strangers is always surprising and my first instinct is often to back away and say no thanks. I have learned if I take a moment to listen to what I am being offered and watch body language I can tell if it's a threatening situation or not. Sometimes it's just a small doubt in the back of my mind that doesn't dissipate during the conversation. Like I said, I may judge wrong but so far I have trusted my gut and have had no problems whatsoever.

I think the first time I declined an offer for a shower and place to stay was from a Norwegian man I came across in Texola, Texas. We were heading to the same place and he already had a room booked there. He offered for me to meet up with him, have dinner and a shower. I did take his phone number but didn't contact him. I wasn't comfortable meeting someone at a hotel to take a shower. This seems like a no-brainer but honestly if I had a better vibe I would have gone. Most of me thought it would be harmless but that small voice disagreed. So, I didn't accept.

In Indiana, I was offered a room in a motel-turned-apartments. I stopped to take photos of the motel's neon sign and the owner just happened to be there. He struck up a conversation with me and I learned all about his family and how he came to own the motel. When he learned what I am doing he offered me a vacant room for the night. My caution voice was there then too but it was different. I have learned over the last three months the different levels of gut instincts. It's natural to be guarded with strangers. We have been told our whole lives to be careful of strangers, don't talk to strangers etc. so I think we are always a bit guarded. I have found there is a difference between my natural, ingrained defensiveness with strangers and the serious warning voice. It takes time to recognize the difference but my general rule is if the voice is accompanied by a gut feeling I decline and move on, possibly missing out on something but possibly avoiding a dangerous situation.

In Louisiana, I made a goal of photographing the abandoned Six Flags park in New Orleans. I drove around the park and scouted out where I could park that would be far enough away not to draw attention to it. I ended up leaving my van a lot farther away than I thought. I began walking and right away a car turned around with a young guy and girl and their dog in the back.  They came to ask if I had broken down and needed a ride somewhere. I immediately sized them up, looking around the car and studying their faces. I told them where I was heading and they offered me a ride. I took it. There was nothing out of the ordinary there and I felt no threat at all. On the way back to my van a guy in a beat up truck offered to drive me and I declined. I still don't know why I did but 'no thanks' came out of my mouth before I even thought about it. Sometimes it just happens that way and I don't question it.

Yesterday I decided to take a walk through the French Quarter during the day to take some photographs. Just as I crossed the street I saw two porta potties, but they were both locked. From out of nowhere a guy approaches me and wants to lead me to a hotel where I can use their bathrooms. I feel like he might be a hustler but there are so many people around I follow him. He tells me where I can find a free Thanksgiving dinner, free showers and free places to stay. He has only been in Nola for a few months and has learned the ropes. For the 3 minutes I am walking with him I am studying his face, the road names and all the shops around me. I have my hand on my purse the entire time as well. When he points to the hotel I thank him for his help and walk in the direction of the door. As I approach I can see there are door men holding the door for people and the car pulling up, filled with people who are checking in, looks pretty normal. I was thinking he was leading me to something sketchy and it actually turned out to be a nice place and a much needed pee break. I'm not saying he's not a hustler though. I met him later in the streets and he said, 'Where are you going? I'm trying to hook up with you". I simply responded with a very stern NO and he politely left me alone.

I would never suggest there aren't bad people out there but I am saying that it would be a great thing if we all just let our guard down a little and trusted more. Learning to trust your voice of caution and studying your surroundings is the best defense you have. Not being afraid to be forceful with language is another thing I've learned. Who cares if I offend some person I will never see again if it keeps me safe. I love people and my trip would be nothing without the interactions with them. In the end, they need to trust me as well. The people who have taken me into their homes or made dinner for me don't know me from Adam either so they are also taking a risk.  Thank heavens they take a chance on me because they have helped shape this journey more than they know.

Abandoned Six Flags in New Orleans.

Six Flags Amusement Park in New Orleans was so badly flooded during Hurricane Katrina it has been abandoned ever since.

A bit of history:
The park first opened under the name "Jazzland" in 2000 but it wasn't profitable so in 2001 the lease was put up for sale and in March of 2002, Six Flags purchased the lease.  The last day the park operated was August 21, 2005. Weekday operations ended a couple weeks before due to the fact schools start early in August in that region and end mid-May. The park was scheduled to open August 27 and August 28 as usual but once Katrina was forecast late on Friday to directly hit New Orleans, the weekend opening was cancelled in order to prepare for the storm and begin evacuations. After the park's drainage pumps failed during the storm, the berm retained the combination of rainwater and sea water overflow from Lake Pontchartrain caused by Katrina's massive storm surge, submerging the entire park grounds in corrosive, brackish floodwater to a depth of 4–7 feet. The floodwater was not drained for over a month. Due to the damage received, the park was closed indefinitely with no plans to reopen. (text taken from Wikipedia)

By the time I arrived it was pretty far gone. It’s been vandalized repeatedly and much of the decorations of the park have been piled up in heaps of sad garbage. Being in there was an adrenaline rush. The decrepit rides and buildings made noises in the wind and I kept thinking I heard voices. In the end, my only company was birds and flies. Many people have amazing photographs of this place. I had the opportunity to be there far after it’s prime of beautiful abandonment but I still feel like I made one other little dream come true. I read about the park just after the hurricane and have never forgotten it but I never actually thought I would get the chance to be there. Another check on my list!