On living like I time traveled to the year 1800:
I know that sounds dramatic, but I am sort of living in that way. And with the pandemic still in full swing, why not seek solitude in the forest? So, here I am in Northern California, living with no electricity, no running water, and no WiFi. I have solar and rechargeable lanterns that work very well, and anytime I’m around electricity I plug in anything that needs charging. Which has led me to realize how much we depend on electricity for everything! And how quickly a phone and computer battery dies. I have several three gallon water tanks I refill on a food grade hose hooked up outside, and these usually last me a couple days. Between washing dishes, cooking, boiling water for coffee and tea, and just hydrating, I have become acutely aware of my h2o intake.
My biggest and most unexpected project lately has been to remodel this 1986 camper that I’m staying in. After doing a lot of reading, I consulted with feng shui principles and selected the colors on walls corresponding with the four directions. I painted every surface, including the ceiling, adorned the cabinet trim in herbal illustrations, put down carpet and installed a candelabra over my kitchen table. A friend helped me install a redwood bench and countertops. Sometime along the way I realized my interior decorating aesthetic is influenced by my country grandma’s kitchen. She had a collection of hand-painted fruit and floral porcelain plates artfully hung in the dining room and later her bedroom, and those were on my mind as I painted this herbal trim. The exterior has gypsy wagon vibes, and my hosts call it ‘Charlotte’s Caravan.’ This was fun to paint and made me think of my first giant 4’x6’ painting in college; a circus wagon of my own creation. I clearly have an affinity for colorfully decorated traveling wagons.
Northern California winter means steady rain, mists and moisture, and being in a forest I feel it seep into my bones. Coupled with writing this amidst a pandemic, any time a scratchy throat comes on or a cough starts, the thoughts can easily drift into a COVID hypochondriac fit. What I’m learning from living here and studying the ways of the indigenous people (this land was originally roamed by the Pomo Indians) is that the forest gives you everything you need to survive it’s winter: one of them being mushrooms! A mega superfood, I’ve been eating a lot of the Oyster variety; in a skillet with butter, oil, in a curry, soup, or in a sauce over noodles. I love painting them and have developed a special relationship with a decaying tree at the bottom of my yard. I go visit it every few days to harvest new fungi growth and to thank it for being so giving and abundant. Douglas fir and redwood needles make a great tea and are high in Vitamin C, and California Bay Leaves are not only good for flavoring a dish, but make a great medicinal tea as well. Not to mention the other herbs growing in the gardens that pop up like weeds.
Through living with an herbalist and helping her in her tea shop, I’m learning more about various native plants and ways of preserving and extracting their medicine. I love making tinctures with the herbs I harvest: sage, fever few, lemon balm, lemon verbena, and thyme are some favorites I’ve been working with. One afternoon in December, on the lowest tide of the winter, we went to the beach to collect Bladderwrack seaweed. Afterwards, I tinctured my harvest, a process I thoroughly enjoy because it fuses homeopathic devotions, biodynamic practices and my former life of bartending. It preserves a place and a moment in time with smell, scent, and healing properties of the plant extracted by alcohol. It’s the most concentrated and convenient way to ingest an herb, and I take comfort in knowing I’ll have my Bladderwrack tincture long after I leave the North Coast, savoring it like a bottle of fine whiskey.
I’m embracing my time in the woods and the inward nature of winter. It’s been three months since I’ve been living off the grid in the forest. My spirit has been stretched in ways I haven't felt before. I’ve had to really lean into my solitude, sit with some of the more tender parts of myself and heal whatever wounds surface. I’ve welcomed the challenges to my ego and material attachments to comfort, and let my intuition take the reigns. I go to bed early and wake up early, working with the light. Alignment with weather and seasons means using those cues to know when to do laundry since clothes dry on a line, when to go foraging and when to harvest and plant. I have a daily morning routine of feeding the ducks and chickens, and I sit and learn from the playful gentleness of the goats. I spent Christmas and New Years going on walks among grandfather trees, reading a book, painting mushrooms and phone chatting with loved ones back home. I am so thankful for the USPS and pen pals.
Finally, I’m excited to announce that I now have three pieces in the group show ‘Shelter from the Storm’ at Gualala Arts Center. It features all paintings completed during COVID2020. One piece is featured in the above photo, the other pieces are ‘Leave Your Breadcrumbs Behind’ and ‘Animacy’, both of which can be found in the California section of my website. I’m happy see my paintings complete their lifecycle by leaving my hands and making it to a gallery wall. The show opens January 15 and will be up for the next six weeks. All work is for sale. To see the exhibit, contact me or the arts center to book a viewing appointment.
Hope you’ve had a blessed New Year. Congratulations on making it through 2020. May we all be a little wiser in 2021.
Thanks for reading, take care, and always travel in braids.
Love,
Charlotte