You probably don’t know this, but I like to create.
Creating anything is wicked cool, but besides writing I like making actual things. Poems, posts, children’s books, painting, charcoal, you name it I like it. After all these years, I think I’ve finally found my jam. The medium that speaks the best through me.
Driftwood.
* * *
When I was a kid my parents would ship my brother and I off to Michigan for the entire summer vacation. My dad would take a week’s vacation and we’d road trip to Michigan and then they’d leave without us. A three-month visit becomes more like a vacation when you’re a teenager that doesn’t particularly get along with your mother.
I used to love it. My friends didn’t particularly care for it. Sometime before Labor Day, my aunt and uncle would road trip us back and spend a week here.
My brother didn’t typically stay as long as I did. He’s younger and his friends are more like his family members than his actual family. I get it. I loved the alone time and space I had. I had much more freedom in Michigan than I did at home. Parents can be embarrassing in front of teenage love, where aunts embrace and encourage it. That, however, is a story for another time.
My aunt married this man who had this BEAUTIFUL cabin right on Torch Lake. It was tucked away in a little city and one of the most amazing places I’ve ever been. The cabin wasn’t really a cabin, it was a gorgeous house on a crystal clear lake.
Before my parents would ditch us, my dad and I would always rise earlier than everyone else. He’d ask me if I wanted to walk to the closest store, grab a coke and watch the sunrise. The walk was always perfect. I can’t remember ever having bad weather there. My dad and I would chat about all the important things or lessons he felt I needed to know.
Come to think of it we never actually watched the sun rise. By the time we got our cokes, the sun was wide awake, stretching its rays across the horizon beginning to warm the day. Our walks did bring us across the street to Lake Michigan beach. Sometimes we’d comb the beaches for Petoskey stones and other times we’d pick up interesting driftwood. We hardly returned to the cabin empty-handed.
* * *
Throughout the house my new uncle and his ex-wife had all this driftwood art they created. It was different scenes or buildings that they had put together and painted. Lots of little wooden seagulls walked along the docks of the tiny marina buildings all attached to a bigger driftwood back drop. These scenes always made me happy. Repurposing nature, in a way. The most impressive driftwood art I’ve seen to this day is the very FIRST bar I’ve ever tended at.
The Rotten Crotch Saloon.
You read that right.
There on the lake front was a saloon made entirely out of drift wood they collected. HUGE trees that washed along the shore were used to build bar stools and hut. It was equipped with a cash machine and coolers and I (age 13) was behind the bar making drinks, opening beers and making tips.
The center of the outside half wall had a split tree trunk holding up the table part people bellied up to. In the center of that split tree the driftwood was a different color and that’s how the saloon got its name. They had used drift wood and nails and that’s it. It has been and will always be my favorite bar to work at. My mom sent me this picture of a painting of the bar. Eventually I’ll have to dig up an actual photo.
Maybe that’s what sparked my interest. I’m inclined to believe it has to be.
* * *
A few years ago, on the return trip we stopped on the North Shore of Lake Michigan and I picked up three laundry baskets of driftwood up. I wanted to make something and I just wasn’t sure what. Since then I’ve made a giant pair of lips, this mermaid and (with the help of my husband) a 3D horses head. When we carried that head through the State Fair a couple of years ago to gift to my Father-in-Law many people stopped us and asked us where we bought it.
Over the summer I was working at an art fair and saw a guy selling driftwood art. His were picture style patterns not like my creations. His art was definitely cool but at a solid $800+ for his pieces it just wasn’t something I could justify. But it did inspire me.
We headed up to Lake Superiors’ North Shore to replenish my driftwood supply. Turns out, the driftwood is different on Lake Superior from Lake Michigan. Superior has more rounded twig like pieces where Michigan has flat slabs. I much prefer Michigan.
I might have to convince the family to go the long way home and fill our truck with only driftwood. 🙂
Until then, I’ll work with what I have and see what else I can create!
Happy creating! Much Love,
Jes xoxo
PS. if you’re ever on the North Shore of Lake Michigan, feel free to send me boxes of driftwood 😉