Breaking Gitche Gumee's Spell
And Finding My Creative Home, Events, Podcast and Substack Recommendations, and a Book Review
Every time we cross the Mighty Mac, it happens. As soon as we roll out of the toll booth on the other side, something shifts. Maybe it’s the trees. Maybe it’s the wild, untamed ruggedness of the Upper Peninsula. Whatever the cause, the air suddenly feels like it’s been run through a Dyson air filter. It clears the cobwebs from my brain, and everything looks crisper, like I just swapped out my old contacts for a fresh set.
I can usually hold off the recurring daydream until we are driving along Lake Superior on 41 and the magic of the Gitche Gumee begins to flood the car. It’s a vivid dream, one where I’m not a visitor but a local with a cozy studio and a view of the lake. By the time Marquette and the Ore Dock finally pop into view, I’ve got Zillow open on my phone.
Our U.P. friends always seem thrilled to see us and waste no time making plans. On our April trip, we somehow ended up at a fundraiser for a local state rep. Next thing I know, I’m handing over a donation. Honestly, I can’t even remember the last time I went to a political event, let alone donated to someone’s campaign.
See what I mean? Who even am I up here?
Gitche Gumee puts a spell on you, and suddenly I’m doing things I’d never expect. Of course, that doesn’t stop us from hiking our favorite trails, eating way too much pizza, and supporting the local breweries.
Marquette’s the kind of town where you’re constantly bumping into a familiar face, and the bartenders greet you with a hello that makes the place feel like “Cheers.”
But the real reason we keep scrolling Zillow isn’t just the trees or the endless outdoor adventures. It’s that this place actually seems to appreciate creative weirdos like us. I’m not really chasing a new zip code; I’m chasing a creative home.
“Could we actually do this? Could we really pack up and move?”
On this last trip, we finally let that “What If” wrestle with reality. Would the magic survive when everything feels like it is an hour away? Would our friends still be excited to see us if we showed up every week? And then there’s the snow. Relentless. Towering dirty piles of it that stick around long after you want them gone. I’ve heard sometimes into May.
No, I cannot. I’ll always love the U.P., and I’ll probably always open Zillow the second I see that Ore Dock, but the spell has its limits. And that limit is a snowbank in May.
As I let the dream of becoming a Marquette local fade, a new question popped up: How do I find that creative culture I keep daydreaming about right where I am?
I started by looking at the community Chuck and I have been quietly building for years. We didn’t set out to be “community organizers,” but somehow we’ve ended up knee-deep in local groups like CreativeMornings, Creative Washtenaw, and the Open Spoon, which Liz Barney is sneakily masterminding. (She is everywhere by way, fostering creativity in my backyard.)
Now that I’m actually paying attention, I can see that a creative community is thriving.
Then there’s our improv troupe at Hear.Say. When I signed up for our 101 class, I had no idea Tuesday nights would become the highlight of my week. It’s a much-needed dose of silliness that always leaves me feeling like I just breathed in some U.P. air and vanquished the cobwebs. That mix of goofiness and friendship wakes up a part of my brain that usually prefers to go to bed early; it’s a pure dopamine rush.
I wasn’t a 4-H kid or a band kid, so I missed out on that “club camaraderie” growing up. But I’ve found one in the rug hooking chapter I belong to. It’s a vital part of my creative community, and yes, I know it sounds cheesy, but I really do feel lucky to have them. And then there’s our neighborhood book group, which is really just a wonderful excuse to eat and drink with the neighbors. We do actually talk about the books. Sometimes. We just picked our next book, “Norwood” by Charles Portis.
The more I count, the more I see the creative outlets we’ve cultivated, like our nonprofit, GIG: The Art of Michigan Music, which we (royal we, it was really just Chuck) managed to launch with a crew of incredibly inspiring folks. And then, there is Substack. I didn’t fully realize how much this platform was contributing to my creative world until I read Charlie Finch’s essay, “Breakfast for 150.”
Like Charlie, Substack is now part of my morning routine, offering a fresh set of essays to read that usually shake loose an idea or two. I’m still in shock that between our GIG and Life In Michigan Substacks, we have over a thousand subscribers. That’s basically viral in my world. Every heart and comment provides yet another dose of serotonin that boosts my mood.
It took sitting down and actually counting for me to realize just how much community we’ve been quietly building. So thanks for being here and being part of my creative community.
The latest Life Michigan Podcast episode is out!
If you have an idea for a guest, email me (info@lifeinmichigan.com). We are looking for anyone who is creative, passionate, and has a story to share about their Life In Michigan. Don’t be shy.
The latest episode of Fans with Bands just dropped!
LifeInMichigan.com covers the stories, community life, and cultural experiences that mainstream media often overlooks. Click on the image to read the whole article.
🗓️ Never Miss an Event: Chuck has been hard at work on our public Google Events Calendar. From book launches to local gigs, it’s all there. Subscribe to the Calendar
You’ll find things like this on the calendar! And it’s beer festival season!
HOMES is bringing together some of the best and hippest breweries from around the world to pour beers for you on Ann Arbor’s west side! Plus, your ticket price supports Habitat for Humanity!
I’ve got two fresh Substacks to entertain you this week!
Plus a few old ones of ours.
Book Review
I just finished Tana French’s “The Keeper.” It’s the third in the Cal Hooper trilogy. It is classic Tana French. She takes her time telling a story and is a master at it. I must confess, she annoyed me at times, making me wait. Throwing in plot twists I didn’t see coming. It isn’t a tidy story, lots of messy human drama. For all of us who have lived in a small town where our great-great-grandfather lived, this book rings true. You’ll get the generational grudges, taking sides, and the rumors.
For those who haven’t lived in a small town, after reading “The Keeper,” you’ll wish you were. I know… what? Yes, really. Tana French is that good. I know, I know—first Marquette, now I’m daydreaming about living in Arknakelty, the fictional town in “The Keeper.’ Tana French is just that good.
Have a great week!
We have some awesome people in our lives that is for sure :)
Thanks @Shital Morjaria (she/her) for always showing up