Art Shanty Project

Early last Sunday we rolled out from our cosy nest, tossed some breakfast into the spuds and drove out to Medicine Lake which is about two miles from where I work and a good dozen or so miles from our home in St. Paul. Reason? To see the Art Shanty Project ((LINK), (LINK)) which is in its third year now.

We rapped on the door of the first shanty we were able to confirm whose inhabitants were open for business. Elise, with her unique brand of blatant cuteness (pink coat and pink snow boots always do it) befriended the band of out of town hippies (LINK) who are holed up for the next few weeks, on the lake, in a reconstruction of an upturned boat that Ernest Shackleton (LINK) and his pals called home during an ill fated trek to the North Pole. Unlike Ernest the hippies have a well stocked bar, wood-stove and access to infinite fuel, phones and cars to use for voyages into Minneapolis should the bright city lights become more appealing that the blinking stars high above Medicine Lake, Minnesota.

A strange and far flung bunch, none of them local. Canada, Washington, West Virginia, North Carolina, San Francisco were all represented. Elise, being kind of quiet due to her confusion at the situation, was brought to life with a tortilla filled with melted chocolate chips. One of the artists whipped it up for her on the top of the wood-stove. Chocolate being the elixir of shyness, the hippies were soon gathered around our first born as she answered their questions and spun deep yarns of her own.

I'd be a damn liar if I said I wasn't tempted to put my Joseph of Nazareth mad carpentry skills to work on a shanty. Lord only knows I've built a wee hut (LINK) or two in my day. I've frequently caught myself dreaming of a collection of funny little houses dotted around our back garden. Maybe even a few up in the oak tree or the catalpa trees. No, I don't have an ounce of faith in those catalpa tress. The squirrels have cored them out completely. A decent puff of wind would bring them down. The oak tree is a different story. Its strength is not to be questioned. It could handle a hoard of kids for sure. I will continue to refine the blueprints during these long winter months. Winter is when you plan all the cool things you are going to do between May and November, the outside months.

If you live in a part of the world where the lakes are frozen with ice two feet thick for a third of the year, every year, then I think a shanty project should be adopted by your community. Why not? A frozen lake is an opportunity to do things that disturb the insanity and cruelty of an Arctic winter. I'm actually getting into it. It took a few years of teetering on the edge of SAD (LINK) but I have a new attitude, a decent coat, boots and snow pants so I can be outside as much as I so desire even on days like today (-22°C as I type). Winter is opportunity. Native midwesterners (LINK) only see it that way. I just have to catch up on 23 years of not thinking that way.

Next weekend, igloo (LINK) building. I'm not joking.