Tall Trees and a Whole Lotta Paint

No cellphone service. No direction but a flimsy paper map and sparse road signals. Worldly trekkers, we spent our Wednesday hiking 5 miles through Savanna Portage State Park.

(Refer to photos when words do not suffice.)

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P.S. This was pre hike. The background cars will disappear.

The beauty of the park can not be attributed solely to the proud, reaching trees or the effortlessly clouded sky or the stubborn streaks of sunlight that consistently confused the two. There was something purified about the air, something clear about its texture that made mosquitoes the only possible (and actual) distraction.

We swatted each other. Sprayed some Off, even when Off wouldn’t cut it. Sang hike-appropriate songs like 1 mosquito, CLAP! (kill) 2 mosquitoes, CLAP! (kill) 3 mosquitoes, CLAP! (miss) and yeah, we weren’t expecting that failure either.

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We jumped into the lake and got our entire bodies submerged until the only thing our eyes could see was the gentle ripples of the water against the sky.

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We got home and made mind reading a more tangible experience by transcribing everything on our minds onto a Styrofoam wig head. Colorful, busy, and gory–just like our minds are.  IMG_1561

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Give us silk and pencils and a hut in the woods, and you have a happy Wednesday club.

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Give us gold puff paint and wooden frames and a seasoned instructor, and you have dyed silk challah covers.

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The power of Uncamp, people.

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Next up: Dried clay pieces and itching fingers? Guess. Paint included.

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Thursday was a corn chip infested bus ride to Duluth, a quaint town with a European-like charm, right off of Lake Superior.

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We took shifts glazing our handmade pottery pieces and exploring small town Minnesota, thrift shops and corner stores absolutely included.

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Yes, you are looking at real earthenware. Red and mold-able and satisfying.

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“You are the Potter and we are the clay.”

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We are constantly molding, constantly shifting with the wave of our lives but therein lies its beauty–that we never dry. He is the Potter and we are the clay and we don’t stop changing ’till the day we die.

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These Duluth drifting thrifters found their home in a cow’s warm embrace.
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Presenting our Unthoughters of the past few days, quoting Kim:

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Everything happens for a reason. Learning that is like having G-d pat your load of worries and say, “This? This is mine to take care of. You concern yourself with other things.” G-d is in charge. Everything He does is for a reason. How comforting?

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