Film Journal // Fall 2021
— U P N O R T H —
at least that’s what my family calls it.
[ self portrait ]
In my happy place.
When my family and I talk about going “up north” it is here. Nestled in the northern woodsy parts of Wisconsin not far from the small town of Butternut, Wisconsin. There is something to be said about this particular cabin though.
It is not luxurious. It is not typical of everyday life. There are no bells and whistles. There is no bathroom. There is an outhouse. There is no running water. Dishes are done outside and in buckets. Preparations and meal planning are a requirement, and safety measures for run in’s with predators and wildlife are discussed. It’s different. Life up north is different. It’s back to basics. There is no reception, no cell phones, no social media. It’s quiet. The perfect place to soul search. It is here where I have felt the closest to nature, and the most at peace.
A little backstory…
On the back wall is photos of my great-grandfather, Charles. He was also a lumberjack and had built all the cabins on the Fischer property. He had a wife, three children, and was a world championship wrestler. He held the world's middle and light heavyweight titles, and there is a book about him called, “Piledriver”.
I remember, as a child, looking at these same black and white photos of him and wondering what he was like. I never did get the chance to meet him. He died when my mother was nine years old and even her memory of him was faint. What I do know is that there is a lot of pride in what he accomplished, and what he had built and provided for his family. I see that pride live on through the generations. Seeing this glimpse into his life, and the livelihood of the past is almost incomprehensible, yet oddly grounding. I am happy that these photos of him exist.
“What’s on the Table”
This was the first shot taken with my Canon A-1.
Shown here is one of my favorite brews, Leinenkugel’s (which is brewed in WI), the pocket knife we took with us on every hike, my lens cap to my film camera, and the kids (sour patch kids that is).
“What Vegans Hunt”
Turkey Tail Mushroom // Approx. 12” - 16” in length
While up north I used a field guide to classify the different mushrooms that we spotted. It was shocking how many mushrooms that I had never before seen in my life and now there were dozens just sprouting up in a mere stroll.
This Turkey Tail Mushroom is considered edible, however considering the closest hospital is about 3 hours away, and our cell phones ceased to have signal, we voted “no” on eating them. The taste, so I hear, can be described as being mildly earthy, slightly bitter, and not very “mushroom-y”. They, amongst many others are wildly known for their health benefits.
My love for mushrooms, and mushroom hunting grew ten fold on this trip.
“You don’t have to smile, you just have to dream”
Upon arrival to the cabin the first thing I noticed was that the field right outside the cabin was covered in daisies. Legit thousands, if not millions of daisies covered the land. I had never seen it quite like that before. Butterflies and friendly bumble bees flourished. It looked like it could have been straight out of scene from Gone with the Wind. I could have died happy right then and there, and probably would have if I had decided to galavant through it like I had wanted and get stung by a bee or a poisonous snake. Instead I cautiously strolled beside it, and admired all that there was to be happy about.
“empty shadows and a full heart”
During our time in the cabins, my uncle, Petry took us shooting in a field. He showed us how to use a gun safely and properly. This was Eddie’s first time shooting and my second time shooting a shotgun. I can’t say this would become my new hobby, but I will say that all together we made quite a few holes in some empty jugs and that was plenty thrilling.
— The Skillet —
A little backstory…
For those of you who don’t know, Eddie, my fiancé and I are big foodies. Cast iron is something that is very cherished in our home, and used just about everyday. Eddie has been collecting cast iron for years now, and even re-finishes them in his spare time. We both bond over cooking, and throughout the years I’ve learned just how special cast iron is. It is Modern & Vintage at its finest.
And here’s why…
It has the ability to be passed down generation after generation. It is constantly giving. With each use it is getting more seasoned adding more flavor and depth to dishes. It is nonstick. It adds significant amounts of iron to your food, which ultimately adds iron to your body. It is industrial and strong. Very hard to break or crack. It can be used as a weapon. It keeps food warm for hours. And, it can be admired as you sit down to have meal after meal with you and your family.
On our way to WI, Eddie and I joked about how cool it would be to find an old cast iron skillet in one of the cabins. Something that my family used decades ago, and that we could bring back to life. Our first full day there we decided to go scavenging. We went into the basement of one of the four cabins that were on the Fischer property. My great grandfather built these cabins. Entering the cabin was no easy task. This particular cabin, called the “white cabin” had a tree fallen on top of it and the inside had been habited by wildlife and nature started creeping its way in. While we found several really interesting small items: a metal lantern, old cola can, a baby blanket, a shovel we found no such luck with cast iron.
Then the next day, Eddie says to me, “There’s a skillet nearby, I can feel it”. Naturally, my response was, “Who are you, the skillet-spider man over here? Your cast iron senses are tingling?” We laughed, but he was right. Just a minute passed that came out of my mouth did I hear him screaming JACKPOT!
After doing some research it is estimated that the skillet is from the 70’s or 80’s, and the little heart next to the lodge name is called a “maker’s mark”. The maker of the skillet had their way of signing the item with a symbol.
Literally could not have been more perfect. <3
// THE TOWER //
To some this is just an average tree stump that’s seen better days and was probably infested with termites, but to me I saw the tower from Lord of the Rings. It was huge and made quite an appearance on one of our late afternoon strolls through the trails of the forest. Don’t judge me. :P
“Fallen Far”
“Fallen for”
The lighting through the kitchen window was my favorite. Crisp. Perfectly diffused and dreamy. My people subjects were lacking at this very moment, but the apple just sitting there on the table and the birds chirping the background took me back to what felt like a scene in Snow White. My claws made me wonder if I would be the witch or the woodland goddess in the story. I never did bite the apple, but I fell for that light.
// Dinner’s ready //
I don’t know the story of this antique oven, but what I do know is that the rubble overflowing in it inspired me. Change happens every second of every day. Yet just like leaves flowing in the wind goes unnoticed, things get left behind unnoticed in all of that change.
Small things.
Big things.
Things like this oven.
Abandoned. Old. No longer needed or wanted.
Things that no longer serve a purpose or a use, but exist still. I took this moment to recognize and appreciate the things forgotten and the service they once provided. Learning of its impact that it has on the people, places, and ‘things’ it surrounds.
“SHELBY!!!”
*you’ll have to zoom in for this one*
Midway during our stay at the cabins we took a drive down to the wooden bridge. We walked around, skipping rocks by the river, and with Petry’s help identified some wildlife tracks and some native birds. On our way back to our cabin (in the car), Petry stopped suddenly and said, “look to your right, quick!”. There she was… just standing there, a beautiful doe. I snapped a quick picture not knowing how long she would stay still, but she actually posed for what seemed like 30 seconds just staring at us. I named her, Shelby.
“The Wooden Bridge”
“Skip”
“A story within a story”
A notebook resides in the cabins for those that stay there to share their experiences. This was Eddie’s first experience at the cabin, so as he was writing I took it upon myself to capture this moment; knowing and hoping that in the future we may reflect back upon this time. Naturally, the cast iron (stove) had to be integrated in.
— PETRY —
This portrait of my uncle, Petry is probably one of my favorite black and white portraits. He hates having his picture taken and while his look, albeit slightly disconcerting is also very raw and I think that’s what I admire about it. There’s no pretending in this photo. There’s no fake smile, there is no trying, it just is. He was simply just sitting in his camping chair right outside the main cabin rewiring his fishing pole. While I did interrupt him to take this photo I am happy I did. It was the last shot taken on my role of film (which is why there is the white banding on the left (a happy film accident ;)) I feel as though it is rather encompassing of his personality, and I look I’ve often received so I am happy I have it frozen in time.