American Road Trip: How Chronic Illness lead me to Sketch America and Share the Calming Gift of Art with Others

In 2015, I embarked on an ambitious project. Embedded in the riverside town of Memphis TN was an air of cultural preservation. Revamped old buildings and run down areas shone like diamonds pressed from coal. Projects like the now completed Concourse Center in the old Sears tower were underway. With the community’s passion for music, good food and good times, the heart of the town, the start of rock and roll, the merging of cultures was still very much alive. Young folks wearing vintage clothing as their daily gear at a vegan friendly diner in midtown was quite the norm. It was the perfect spot for a cool vintage and sustainable fashion store. I quit my job and purchased a vintage travel trailer that needed a full overhaul.

At this point, my knowledge of camper trailers came from threads and groups about vintage travel trailers and mobile boutiques. I spent a year scrounging and saving toward a dream of my own tricked out trailer store. This passion kept me going each day as I fell ill tormented by chronic symptoms of celiac disease. I was determined to open an integrated sustainable fashion boutique and graphic design business with my ex-husband (husband at the time), no matter what challenges I faced.  I was fortunate that I had friends that helped lift me up, give me ideas, and introduce me to new people in the Memphis vintage community. My ex was supportive in collaborating on projects together both for my store and for other personal projects. Little did we know we would have a personal project together that would spark big changes in our lives.

October 30th, I hopped into a friend of a friend’s Ford F150 and began a journey marking the beginning of a new entrepreneurial endeavor. As we drove across the Mississippi River headed towards Little Rock to purchase the 1976 Airstream Sovereign Land Yacht, I told my contractor pal of my renovation plans. Since he had restored a couple of campers and was aiding in the restoration of another Airstream, I felt confident that he could help me achieve my design goals. We agreed that I would do some of the labor and all of the design work, and that I would pay him and his crew to pick up slack for things that I didn’t know how to do. With cash in hand, I set out to purchase a genuine piece of American history. 

Airstreams were the creative lovechild of Wally Byam and his yearning to explore nature. He began creating how-to kits in 1920 and in 1936 began selling the “Clipper.” Airstreams were a beautiful and natural progression of road improvements, the development of National and State parks, and the American spirit of adventure. There are other very charming vintage campers on the market, but Airstreams have a certain nostalgic air that felt right and fit with the aesthetic I wanted for Service: Style & Design’s mobile boutique. I purchased my camper from a nice man who also had restoration dreams, but decided it was more hassle than he was able to invest. It was a little bit daunting and disconcerting to purchase a project camper that someone had given up on. However, I felt confident in our abilities to fix her up and create the atmosphere I wanted for my new boutique. 

I began the work on the trailer in November 2015 in Memphis. I was outside with no power or water in the damp and frigid fall. The work was indeed grueling and most of it I did completely alone. Some of you who have followed my blog and know that I have suffered with health issues most of my life. This time was no exception. I'm not sure if it began with a surgery in July 2015 or maybe before, but by fall, my health was in a steady decline.

I am an aggressively competitive person. Being athletically minded, when my health declines, my attitude is usually either to try to ignore my symptoms the best I can (suck it up mode) or challenge accepted (warrior mode). I power through pain silently and secluded at home with my family. I try to avoid health related questions and attention from others. At that point in my life, I stood in denial of my illness morning after morning. I struggled to get out of bed. I felt constant pain when I hobbled around making coffee. I put on layer after layer of clothing to defend against the damp grey air. I looked in the mirror, but not into my own eyes hiding from myself to avoid admitting the truth. After very tough morning, I went to work on the trailer in the afternoons. I figured that I was going to feel bad no matter what so I might was well suck it up. In addition, the guilt of quitting my job and weight of familial responsibilities added to my internal pressure.

I lived in the positive mindset of absolute denial for quite a few months. Each day my physical condition fell apart, I said to myself “it will be better by the end of the week, or maybe next week, or maybe by next month, but definitely it will be better eventually.”  However, that denial shattered after I finished my part of the trailer prep. I found myself unable to muster up the ability to accomplish more than one or two physical tasks a day, and some days, none…and then some weeks, none. To my own surprise, I was stuck in bed feeling terrible more often than feeling even just bad. In the depths of physical torture, I began to create.

While in bed, I obsessed endlessly about my silver lining, my Airstream. I thought about all my favorite places to visit. Dancing in my mind were different places friends lived, places I had visited and places I had never visited. I created pictures of these places. First, Memphis. Then, St. Louis. I drew New Orleans, which holds my heart. Then, Muscle Shoals, where took the boys camping the same day we gave them a Christmas Puppy. I drew Athens, GA because I lived there for seven years. My little boys were born there, and I opened my first business there. Part of my heart will always be in Athens. So on and on I drew in my bed from Portland, Maine to San Antonio, Texas, I sketched my way around the country. Dreaming and creating each page was a way for me to be productive even when I felt my worst. It was a self-inclined form of therapy. As young as I could remember, I have fallen to writing and art as my safest places. These artistic places are always available to me no matter the circumstance and always give me joy. 

After I had a little collection of cities, my ex, Brian, and I agreed to recreate the images as graphic illustrations for a retro camping travel themed coloring book. Without this most important step, the book would not have been born. Our collaborative process began just a few weeks after I began sketching. Brian began the painstaking process of building graphics from my art piece by piece. We made adjustments along the way. The pages truly became a newer better creation, not just a recreation of my original sketch. We filtered each page through each other’s’ interpretations and at some point…magic! After creating a number of pages together, like a dream we found and contracted with our amazing agent Kate at Howard Morhiem. She facilitated our publishing deal with the prestigious Little Brown and Co. I think that it is amazing how although life always throws you for a loop; it also seems to toss you a bone.

 I'm a very positive person, but even my generously positive outlook would have never guessed that anything as amazing as American Road Trip could be a part of our lives. The finished product was an interactive art form that I shared with people all over the world. I did finish the airstream with a lot of help from my contractor. I managed to put in weeks of my own sweat and overall I was satisfied. I did all the necessary work of building inventory while I was sick in bed too. Repurposed pieces with graphic designs printed on them, locally made jewelry were items sold in the shop after I opened it. I worked on fashion blogs and tips, photo shoots, and social media marketing. I did everything in my power to be in control of my life despite the betrayal of my body. I opened my store only to close it six months later due to the severity of my illness that prompted my move to Florida.

So many highs filled that time; a “real” book deal that actually closed after a three-day auction with several interested and highly acclaimed publishers, which was unheard of. Additionally I was high from the excitement of the creation of my boutique dream. Yet it was also marked by so many lows; the slow but certain crumbing of an over decade long marriage and devastating illness…an unrelenting number of blows to my body and my life. With each blow, though I stood strong and fought simply for the right to be myself, to feel like myself and to follow my dreams, even if they were daydreams of other places. 

I am honored to be an example of life's graces, because I am thankful for each moment of my life. Each second I was ill and hurting during the making of American Road Trip was an opportunity to grow and learn more about myself and others. Some people cower and attack people with “unseen” chronic illnesses. This happened not just toward me, but towards the many friends that I know who carry similar and even more challenging physical burdens. People expect those of us with chronic illness first to hide and then to do something about ourselves. They question our symptoms then question our sanity.  They ask if we are better when they know that there is no cure. Ultimately, there is no getting better, only varying degrees of good days and bad days and of doctor’s appointments and disease management. 

You experience a different perspective when you are viewing the world from your bed. As I stared at the blue walls and called my dogs onto my bed besides me, I looked at each blank page as an opportunity to escape the confines of by illness. Each page was a self-invention of playfulness and adventure. I longed to be everywhere all at once. The simple act of sketching little trailers in places I’d love to visit felt like an escape from the concurrent feeling of going nowhere. I spent a great amount of time in deep meditation. Meditative practice brought me out of my body and helped me separate what my body was feeling from a sense of mindfulness and peacefulness. I found that if you can do nothing else, then sitting quietly and resting your mind is the best thing to try. Yet, stillness that can be a challenge in the midst of physical pain and daily illness ironically even if you are bedridden. 

Looking back, I am thankful that I went through the whole experience. Even though the sales of the coloring book were not record breaking and the entire coloring book trend took a huge decline since the publishing of American Road Trip and the sequel Tropical Destinations, I am still glad to inspire people with the pages of art that they can participate in with me. I hope that my journey of strength shines through the pages of American Road Trip. I am thankful for the hard work and time that I spent with my ex, our literary agent and our publisher to make the book accessible to others who need a journey at their fingertips. 

 American Road Trip moves to Miami

It was a rush to get me to the hospital. In early fall 2015, I became very ill resulting in the creation of American Road Trip. At this time, I noticed unexplained weight loss. I was remarkably smaller by November 2015 when I started working on the trailer. By spring, I was even smaller, by about 20 lbs. Finally, by the time I went to my family reunion in the summer of 2016, my health was in a very rapid and confusing decline. When I returned to Memphis, I was seriously ill. I dropped an additional 10 lbs and every part of me seemed to be going haywire. I felt like I was living out the Stephen King book Thinner in real life. I felt as if I was cursed and withering away. My body was spinning completely out of control. For the first time in my life, I felt very afraid. Despite everything I had gone through with my health, the multiple issues and surgeries, this time was different and truly terrifying. My normal calm collectivism and eagerness to conquer a challenge attitude was on fire and burning in the face of my reality. Unsure of my survival, I consulted with emergency doctors in Memphis. Sadly, immediate access to the specialists that I was extremely difficult there, especially since TN rejected Obamacare meaning most of the doctors rejected me as a patient, as well. Medical professionals advised me to seek out a large hospital system where I could be hospitalized for a week or so to get my body going on the right track. I needed a Mayo clinic or the like but the intake process for such facilities takes a long time and is costly. Time was not on my side.

My body betrayed me. My hair was falling out. I was in constant pain. Each day I was a pound or few smaller. Whatever was happening to me, I could not explain. Whatever was happening to me, I could not beat. Whatever was happening to me, I was going to have to get emergency help. My body was broken, dissolving right in front of my precious little family. We made the decision to seek out a place that better access to the type health care I required. We decided on Miami, because the UM research hospital had top-notch doctors and I was going straight into the hospital. Also, my family and friends were in South Florida as it has been a constant part of my life.

I am thankfully doing better now. It was a very long road as the weeks turned into months. The problems I have with my body are serious, chronic, the real deal. They require upkeep and are always a part of me and my life. Nonetheless, life is about living and no matter what state my body may be in if I am here with you all then I am in it all the way. I am so very humbled and grateful to the people who helped me when I was in my health crisis. Those sweet souls that came to my rescue when I needed it, who helped me, who sent me messages and phone calls, those who send me many generous gifts, videos of groups sending me healing vibes and dances and circles, those who transported me and my family and our stuff over multiple trips…to all of you…thank you. It really is true that when things are bad and you feel afraid, you can look for the helpers and they will always be there. I am eternally grateful for the helpers, (all those conversations I had during the time). Almost dying was one of the most special times of my life and I will never forget that support and feeling of oneness with my extended spiritual brothers and sisters. Life is journey, never static and not meant to be. Moving, growing, learning, listening, creating…these moments lead to healing, thankfulness, gratitude.