Application Denied (or Love With and In Michigan)

Photo from Porcupine Wilderness State Park Website

Artist-In-Residency Application: Denied

by Teresa L. Thome

I submitted this story to Friends of the Porkies for an application for an Artist-in-Residence Program. I made a few edits, but this is 98% the submission. I was uber-bummed. I worked hard on the application (this is a piece of it), so I thought I'd share it here with you. It is a love story. Oh, and while I wasn't chosen for the program, I am eager to research other artist residency programs. 

My mother wasn’t one to mince words. As a child I often heard, “If you’re bored, it’s your own damn fault.” I got the point. 

When I was ten, my parents moved to the country – cornfields, cow pastures, meadows, miniature golf. (It actually wasn’t that far out of the city, just far enough.) Still, when I’d played long enough with my Lego’s, got tired of Lite Brite or coloring Little Lulu and there were none of the five neighbor kids to be found, I wouldn't cry "I'm bored" for fear of my mother's scolding. I’d do something else to occupy my time. I’d walk through the woods, back roads and apple orchards of Alpine Township, Michigan. While I grew up in a home with its fair share of dysfunction, these walks weren’t always a means to get away from it all. In fact, I dare say… rarely. At some point, I stopped waiting to get bored and I’d just go. Outside. By myself. For hours. My entire late childhood/young adulthood. These walks were a chance to get outside, breathe, take in the woods, re-calibrate. I was practicing “forest bathing” before I knew such a thing existed.

Years later I would meet a man who would eventually become my husband. On our first official “weekend getaway”, I planned a surprise trip for him. I booked a B & B in the Leelanau Peninsula. For three glorious days, we hiked and strolled, meandered and lollygagged through back roads and cemeteries, pastures and streams. I was in my early twenties and it was my first time north of Ludington. Sure, there was one brief trip to Cheboygan for a theatre festival, but I was inside for the entire time. No, this was my first real adventure up the Mitten and it was everything I had hoped for and more. We had such a great time that we decided we would make annual visits to Northern Michigan and/or the Upper Peninsula. Over the course of our courtship and marriage, we’ve made every attempt to travel annually and we’ve done pretty good.

We’ve hiked Sleeping Bear Dunes, gotten lost on a few different “two tracks” and toasted marshmallows at Harry and Gert’s cottages somewhere in the U.P. I forgot the town but I’ll never forget Harry and Gert.

“Hi, my name’s Harry… and I’m not very!” He’d say with a laugh.

She’d implore, having heard this a million times, “Oh Harry. Please stop!”

We have driven, breathless, through a mystical, magical early evening fog on Old Mission and stood in wonder at the Soo Locks. We’ve dipped our toes in coastline from Empire to Munising. We’ve basked in the glow of the sun walking along nature trails under shimmering red, orange and gold leaves in Glen Arbor and Marquette. We’ve taken in sunsets at Frankfort, Charlevoix and Torch Lake. We’ve driven countless miles looking for vegetarian pasties and have eaten lots of cherry pie and cherry jam and cherry salsa and cherry candy and plain ol’ cherries. 

We’ve enjoyed fireworks in Indian River and parades in Harbor Springs. We’ve meditated on the banks of the Pigeon River. We’ve even experienced Escanaba in da moonlight. We’ve taken the two-seater plane to Beaver Island where we roamed aimlessly for days. Oh, and there was that time we accidentally broke into a bank on Mackinaw Island. (True story for another day!) 

And… we have birded (viewed and recorded birds) in Seney Wildlife Refuge, Whitefish Point, Alpena and... wait for it... the Porcupine Mountains! Well, mostly, I bird. The husband proudly calls himself a Junior Birder. He’s the best.

I think it would be easy for me to say that I fell in love with my husband at the same time I fell in love with Northern Michigan and the Upper Peninsula.

When I heard about the opportunity for the artist residency, my head started spinning with excitement and, well, fear. Because as much as I love the outdoors and actually love being alone (more about that in a second), I’m also a wee bit afraid of being in that outdoors alone. I’m constantly on the lookout for bears, bobcats and snakes. Oh my! 

As a survival mechanism I’ve decided that pretty much every outdoor plant is poison ivy, so I won’t get it. Neurotic or clever? I’m going with clever. I’ve been spooked by Canada Geese and Sandhill Cranes. I mean, have you seen those attack videos? Trust me, though, I’m a high functioning adult. I really am. Just a healthy dose of fear inflicted by the mother I’ve mentioned.

“Go through life like everything and everyone is out to get you and you’ll survive,” she’d offer far too frequently.

“Thanks Mom! Great advice,” I say sarcastically, looking over my shoulder.

Despite this underlying unease, I’m incredibly independent. I should probably add, even somewhat courageous. At least that’s what I’ve been told. Five years ago I loaded up my car to drive Route 66 by myself, write about my adventure and then spend time in Los Angeles living and working towards performing a solo show. That Junior Birder is a very low maintenance husband who more than tolerates me living part-time in California to this day. That’s what I meant before about “love being alone”. I think all those walks by myself at such a young age not only became something I was good at, but something I craved. This time I really do mean, “Thanks Mom!”

Often in those alone times, I like to write. I use writing as a tool to understand the world around me and my place in it. I’ve found that the more vulnerable I am in describing my own experiences, and the more humor I can mine from the situation, the more relatable stories and lessons can be. I write for others to read (in blogs or stories or long Facebook posts) or for me to perform (in telling short stories or my solo show.) My goal is to make people laugh and think. I understand that challenging oneself provides the best material. I could think, therefore, of no better challenge and/or opportunity then heading to a cabin in the woods in the splendor of the Porkies for two weeks to help me find and tell a new story.

From this residency, I will gain a life-changing experience and a new story to tell. What that experience will be, I do not know, but I’m thrilled, albeit slightly nervous, to discover. I will gift to the park a personal story in performance (live and recorded), images and personal essay that seeks to inspire others, through humor and honesty, to appreciate, conserve, and hopefully explore the Porcupine Mountains. Oh, and I’ll use my social media platforms, Instagram, YouTube and Facebook to shout about my experiences to the world wide web. 

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