“getting where you think you want to go” Collage, cut New Yorker Magazine paper, 9" x 12" — **“getting where you think you want to go”**
Collage, cut *New Yorker* Magazine paper, 9" x 12"

It’s been four lunar months since I began this challenge.

INNER CHEERLEADER JULES: YAY!!! Keep it up!

ME: Thanks!

JULES: Only THIRTY-SIX more weeks to go!!

ME: Please stop doing math.

JULES: Just trying to help.

ME: You’re a jewel.

I didn’t exactly know what the journey was going to be like when I started it. But I was confident I had laid out a solid roadmap for myself—one collage from one New Yorker each week for 52 weeks.

It was a bit daunting. But I know myself. I need assignments and deadlines to get it done. Otherwise, I would spend this entire pandemic lolling on the sofa, scrolling through my social media feeds, outgrowing my lounge pants, and wondering if I was ever going to actually make art instead of just thinking about making art.

I imagined I would be reading each New Yorker for most of the week and then bust out a collage in one night.

INNER CRITIC URSULA: HA!

ME: (rolls eyes)

I usually spend two days reading, three evenings collaging, one evening writing, photo editing, and posting, then one day off. And occasionally, like this week, that one day off is not. Ain’t gonna lie. It’s a lot.

But I’m still enjoying it, still excited by it, and I’m still looking forward to the next week. I’m also wondering if I have the stamina to make it the whole year. What would happen if I had to skip a week? Or stop mid-way through the year? That is definitely NOT part of my roadmap. But, you know. Life happens. And so Inner Cheerleader Jules reminds me that I might need to grant myself a little grace every now and then. And to take it one week, one day at a time.

JULES: You’re welcome!

This week I had no profound dreams. No deep thoughts. I wondered if I was losing steam.

“A Taste for Adventure” by Cannaday ChapmanThe New Yorker, April 24, 2017 — “A Taste for Adventure” by Cannaday Chapman
*The New Yorker*, April 24, 2017

But what I did have was the special Food & Travel issue from April of 2017. The articles took me on a BBQ tour of South Carolina, a modern day father-son tour retracing Odysseus’ voyage, and a glimpse into the daily life of a couple who live in a van.

If you’re of an age, that last one might conjure Chris Farley’s hilarious SNL motivational speaker who lives “in a van down by the river.” But apparently, #vanlife is a thing now. And obviously, I took inspiration from it.

I’m not much of a car person. I mean, I drive one, and I love my current car—a Honda Fit named Jane Honda. (Because she’s fit. 1981 Jane Fonda Workout Book, anyone?) But I’m not super into cars. I’ve never owned a van. I did own a VW once. A used Jetta that turned out to be a dud. So I have no particular affinity for Volkswagens. But seriously—who doesn’t love a classic VW van? Who? Don’t they just reek of hippies? Don’t they seem groovy and cool and hip and retro?

If you could travel around in a VW van and go from beach to mountain to beach with your dog in tow (not literally), doesn’t that sound dreamy?

That’s what this couple in the article thought. And on their very first day on the road, their new used van broke down. They got it repaired and kept going. And going and going. They started an Instagram account and created content everywhere they went. Eventually they became influencers, got sponsors, and made a living with their #vanlife.

She monitors the social media and handles the sponsors while he drives and chases the surf. Their photos are gorgeous—ocean views from inside the van, looking out the open back doors with their bare feet in the foreground. According to them, the most popular photos include her in a bikini. #colormeshocked

What Instagram doesn’t show you is the dirty dishes that quickly pile up in their tiny van. The mechanics who work on the van every time it breaks down. The smell of food and dog and human BO. The bickering, the negotiating.

We’re not privy to the hours and hours of setting up the perfect campside photo with a sponsor’s perfectly placed product.

Unless you’ve been living off the grid—and if you’re reading this, welcome back to the grid—you know that nothing is quite what it seems to be on social media. And I find Instagram to be particularly deceptive. But maybe that’s why I also find it to be the most innocuous platform. If I want to drive myself insane, I go to Twitter and read comments. If I want to look at pretty things, I scroll through Instagram.

I don’t begrudge anyone their social media success. In fact, making a living while driving around the country does have a certain appeal. But how often does it turn out that we actually get to where we think we want to go? How many couples tried #vanlife before throwing in the (stinky, chili-encrusted) towel?

I mean, I thought I would be playing chess with my Oscar statuettes right about now. (See Week 14.) But my roadmap evolved along with me, and instead, I find myself making art every week. And I’m good with that. I’m living with my sweetheart in a small but just-spacious-enough condo in a town I adore with an amazing job and a social circle filled with interesting, smart, loving, creative, supportive, caring people. I’m grateful for every bit of it.

AND—I’m sure Meryl Streep is dealing with her menopausal muffin top just like I am. We’re just not gonna show it to you on Instagram.