Report from the Galápagos
When we lived in the North Georgia suburbs, I knew a man, the publisher of our suburban newspaper, locally prominent, an active member of our church, who up and decided one day to through-hike the Appalachian Trail. His wife later shared that she figured he’d last two weeks before giving up, not being an experienced hiker and not having trained for the hike. As it turned out, he stuck with it and made it all the way from the AT’s start in north Georgia to its terminus in Maine. His reports for the newspaper from the trail were fascinating.
When he returned, he gave a talk at the church about his experience. Someone asked him if or how the hike had changed his life, what lasting impact it had on his life at home, if any. He thought for a moment and replied, “Before I went my life was like a jigsaw puzzle with 100 pieces that all fit together. Now it’s like the puzzle has an extra piece.”
I thought that was a brilliant metaphor, and I recalled it last week as we returned from a bucket-list trip to the Galápagos Islands of Ecuador. We traveled with Road Scholar, the company whose tours we love for their thoughtful organization and stellar guides and educational components. Despite scary news items about new US military “assistance” to Ecuador against narco-traffickers the week before we left, the trip went ahead without a hitch and with little impact evident to us from the wider military action. The trip was as amazing as we had heard it would be, a spectacular 8-day encounter with wildlife that exists nowhere else on earth and that is moreover so unafraid of humans that you can get close (up to 6 feet away). More about that in a moment.
It all got me thinking about why we travel. Of course, we see things and do things and experience other cultures that we can’t encounter at home. We learn about the wider world and our horizons are broadened. When artists or writers travel, we are also hoping for inspiration—fresh material, an epiphany, a spectacular image, that will change our work going forward. And sometimes we get it.
In my experience the impact of travel has usually been more indirect and diffuse, less easily traced along a line from A to B. When I joined the tapestry tour of France with Cresside Collette three years ago, I learned a lot about tapestry and was thrilled to see up close so many monuments of the art form. I was inspired to recommit to certain aspects of my own tapestry work. I realize now, 3 years later, that the trip also planted the seeds for my eventual decision to move on from tapestry to other media. Didn’t see that coming!
In the Galápagos, every day we experienced the joy and wonder of seeing new species up close in their natural habitat. There was also joy and fun in simply being outside every day, hiking (in 80+ degrees and 1000% humidity—so much fun!) and snorkeling (without wetsuits! the water was warm!). This tour was fast-paced; often we returned to the ship from an island landing via dinghy, only to change clothes in order to set out for the next activity. If I’m honest, it was really good for me to get out of my head for almost two weeks, and out of my studio, which is kind of like a room-sized version of my head that I spend too many (?) hours in every day at home.
Below is a gallery of some of what we saw. I kept a list on my phone of species we saw each day. I’m sure I missed a bunch (I did not identify all the types of beautiful tropical fish I saw while snorkeling) but my list came to 43 species.
Now that I’ve been home for a couple weeks, and back in my studio, I can see that the trip energized and inspired me. Not so much in the literal sense of now I’m going to make paper weavings about boobies and sea lions, but with a fresh sense of joy and energy to explore ideas I had earlier but that seemed overwhelming before we left. A little distance, a total change of pace and scene, and I’m now able to do the necessary research, make the samples, and really explore the ideas I have instead of just talking myself out of them. I guess I was overdue for a vacation!
Of course, you don’t have to go to an exotic locale to experience this infusion of fresh energy. Now that I’m home, I look forward to finding new ways to change up my routine and get out more, rather than just grinding away in the studio. Even a walk outside can be enough to shift one’s perceptions. Studio work happens on the back burner, I suspect, more often than we realize.
If you are inspired to look into the trip we took, here’s a link.