Nov 16 2014

The Artist’s Road

Melissa Crytzer Fry

Everybody loves a road trip. But what if a work-related, cross-country trip led you to so much more than sights and scenes – to things both frightening and revelatory?

One of the many sights seen by Patrick during his journey.

Cheyenne, Wyoming.

In his literary memoir, Committed: A Memoir of the Artist’s Road, author Patrick Ross shares this very story. His story.

“[Patrick’s] task is to interview a range of artists about copyright infringement,” explains author Jessica McCann in her 5-star review of Committed. “The interviews and conversations with the artists begin to lean more toward creative passion, life and balance than toward the legalities of copyright. His road trip soon evolves into a journey of inspiration, reflection and self-discovery.”

On the book jacket, Patrick is described as “a Washington, D.C. journalist-turned-lobbyist who disguises his bipolar disorder as well as his estrangement from his parents and heads out on a five-week cross-country U.S. road trip, engaging with creative and generous individuals who trigger a yearning to pursue an authentic, art-committed life. To embrace that life, however, would require tremendous change. He would need to break with his funders, face down his fear of a bipolar spiral that might endanger his relationship with his wife and children, and come to terms with his family legacy of mental illness.”

Today, in the spirit of What I Saw, Patrick shares photos not contained in his newly released book. I met Patrick, by the way – a former Arizona dweller with a fabulously inspirational writing-creativity blog – on Twitter four years ago, and while I haven’t yet read his memoir (it’s loaded on my iPad and ready to go!), I am even more inspired to read his courageous words after seeing this piece about him in the New York Times last week.

Enjoy this visual journey through Patrick’s camera lens, with captions excerpted directly from his memoir. Click to enlarge all photos. (Then get your butt out there and buy his book!)

Newmarket, New Hampshire: "'Let's head down to the river,' Ernest says. 'Maybe we'll get to meet the girls.' Was that a wink? I grab my coffee and follow, anticipating sun worshippers in bikinis, the sworn enemies of the purple-haired girl behind the counter. Instead, the 'girls' Ernest introduces me to by the river are three non-migratory geese."

Newmarket, New Hampshire: “‘Let’s head down to the river,’ Ernest says. ‘Maybe we’ll get to meet the girls.’ Was that a wink? I grab my coffee and follow, anticipating sun worshippers in bikinis, the sworn enemies of the purple-haired girl behind the counter. Instead, the ‘girls’ Ernest introduces me to by the river are three non-migratory geese.”

Charleston, South Carolina: “This day has been perfect, and I’m not letting a literal freak of nature–frozen rain on a hot summer day–destroy it. We press forward, deeper into the water. Marisa squeals, I believe more in delight than fear. Waves erupt from both sides of the car like a crystalline angel’s wings.”

Savannah, Georgia, with Savannah College of Art and Design professor Meghan Woodcock: "Then she warns us not to touch the Spanish moss hanging down over our heads. It descends enticingly from the tree branches like spun taffy in the window of a beach boardwalk store. Chiggers live in the moss, she says, and will burrow their way into your skin. Once they're in there it's nearly impossible to lodge them free, and you'll believe you'll never stop scratching."

Savannah, Georgia, with Savannah College of Art and Design professor Meghan Woodcock: “Then she warns us not to touch the Spanish moss hanging down over our heads. It descends enticingly from the tree branches like spun taffy in the window of a beach boardwalk store. Chiggers live in the moss, she says, and will burrow their way into your skin. Once they’re in there it’s nearly impossible to lodge them free, and you’ll believe you’ll never stop scratching.”

The Toledo Botanical Garden in Ohio, location of an interview with singer/songwriter Leah Martensen: "I stop at the Herb Garden and set up such that Leah will be seated on a mount for a now-missing sculpture. She finds me not too long after that, floating into the garden a shimmering vision. A billowy blouse reflects against the sun nearly as many shades of green as are found in the garden."

The Toledo Botanical Garden in Ohio, location of an interview with singer/songwriter Leah Martensen: “I stop at the Herb Garden and set up such that Leah will be seated on a mount for a now-missing sculpture. She finds me not too long after that, floating into the garden, a shimmering vision. A billowy blouse reflects against the sun nearly as many shades of green as are found in the garden.”

Lake Whitmore, outside of Ann Arbor, Michigan: "This stretch of lakeshore is also lined with chain-link fencing, but it allows approach almost to the water's edge. I walk up to the fence and grab links with each, hand. Leaning forward, I press my face into the wires and gaze upon a thin slice of moonlight cutting its way across gentle ripples. I can't reach you, I say silently. Can you hear me? I can't get through."

Lake Whitmore, outside of Ann Arbor, Michigan: “This stretch of lakeshore is also lined with chain-link fencing, but it allows approach almost to the water’s edge. I walk up to the fence and grab links with each, hand. Leaning forward, I press my face into the wires and gaze upon a thin slice of moonlight cutting its way across gentle ripples. I can’t reach you, I say silently. Can you hear me? I can’t get through.”

Downtown Madison, Wisconsin, on the shore of Lake Mendota: "The waterline is at most five feet below where I am standing. I look across the lake at glass-lined mansions sitting just up from the shore. How is this possible? Do the residents of Madison not understand that water does not always stay at the same level? It can create the illusion of a permanent state of calm, but with no warning water can rise. A wave can propel itself across formerly languid surfaces, destroying everything in its path."

Downtown Madison, Wisconsin, on the shore of Lake Mendota: “The waterline is at most five feet below where I am standing. I look across the lake at glass-lined mansions sitting just up from the shore. How is this possible? Do the residents of Madison not understand that water does not always stay at the same level? It can create the illusion of a permanent state of calm, but with no warning water can rise. A wave can propel itself across formerly languid surfaces, destroying everything in its path.”

The Hormel SPAM Museum in Austin, Minnesota: "When I pick up a sample of the pretend meat, I find it is a bean bag with a rubber exterior, not ready to let go of the surprisingly comfortable toy. I don't question the fact that this assembly line is a fiction. It presents itself as such."

The Hormel SPAM Museum in Austin, Minnesota: “When I pick up a sample of the pretend meat, I find it is a bean bag with a rubber exterior. Not ready to let go of the surprisingly comfortable toy, I don’t question the fact that this assembly line is a fiction. It presents itself as such.”

Sioux Falls, South Dakota: "I step out on a dry slab of rock. Below me a small vortex has formed, water trapped in a circular flow. It strains to break free, to join its brethren in downward motion. I understand that feeling."

Sioux Falls, South Dakota: “I step out on a dry slab of rock. Below me a small vortex has formed, water trapped in a circular flow. It strains to break free, to join its brethren in downward motion. I understand that feeling.”

The Columbia River upstream from Portland, Oregon: "I'm chasing along the Oregon Trail now, pursuing the ghosts of William Clark and Meriwether Lewis. I wonder what Lewis' mental state was when he knew he was approaching the end of his journey. It's hard to know, because his journal falls silent

The Columbia River upstream from Portland, Oregon: “I’m chasing along the Oregon Trail now, pursuing the ghosts of William Clark and Meriwether Lewis. I wonder what Lewis’ mental state was when he knew he was approaching the end of his journey. It’s hard to know, because his journal falls silent.”

Portland, Oregon: "The rain is fitting. It is Portland being authentic to herself."

Portland, Oregon: “The rain is fitting. It is Portland being authentic to herself.”

For Writers: Curious about creativity and living an art-committed life? This memoir may be just what Santa recommends for your stocking this year!

For Readers, For Everyone: I’m sure the above photos and descriptions have inspired you in the same way they did me.

Head on over to buy Patrick’s book at Amazon, or visit his website to learn more about the author, the book, and additional places to purchase. Patrick took a courageous first step in writing this memoir. Let’s keep this important dialogue about mental health (and the stigmas surrounding it) going.


31 Responses to “The Artist’s Road”

  • Sue Mitchell Says:

    What a great idea for Patrick to share his photos a la What I Saw! I have read the book, so I love seeing these images of what I had already pictured so vividly by reading Patrick’s descriptions. It’s a wonderful and courageous book that really got me thinking.

    [Reply]

    Patrick Ross Reply:

    Hi Sue! You know, being a literary memoir, it wasn’t really appropriate to include photos, but a handful of folks have told me that while they felt my writing put them in the scene, they still would have liked some. After all, we respond to the visual, as Melissa’s blog so often reminds us. Thanks for the appreciation!

    [Reply]

    Melissa Crytzer Fry Reply:

    Hi Sue! Long time no talk. So happy to see you here and am looking forward to reading Patrick’s book as well. If things go well with my reading schedule, I should be getting started in the next few weeks!

    [Reply]

  • Annie Neugebauer Says:

    I *love* this post, Patrick and Melissa! And I adore the excerpts from the book, too. What a beautiful collage you’ve put together here.

    [Reply]

    Melissa Crytzer Fry Reply:

    And I loved that we hosted Patrick at the same time. Seeing his office space on your blog was quite fun.

    [Reply]

    Patrick Ross Reply:

    Hi Annie! I sent Melissa a silly amount of pictures; she appropriately curated it down to some of the more visually striking ones. (Unlike my daughter I’m not much of a photographer.)

    [Reply]

  • linda anselmi Says:

    “Committed” sounds like an inspiring read! Will check it out. What an interesting collection of pictures from his travels! And mostly of water. Wonder if that is the influence of being a former desert dweller? What a cool boot!

    [Reply]

    Patrick Ross Reply:

    Fascinating to make that connection, Linda! I confess I am obsessed with water and am determined to live on a lake someday (something bigger than Lake Pleasant in AZ, near where I grew up!). I didn’t choose the photo on the cover, the art director for the publisher did, but I like it and others do too, it seems. The scene at Lake Whitmore in Michigan is a key turning point in the book’s narrative, so I was fine with a lake on the cover (although the one on there looks more like Switzerland’s Lake Lucerne…).

    [Reply]

    Melissa Crytzer Fry Reply:

    I love your insight about Patrick and water — and look, you were right, Linda! Quite astute.

    [Reply]

  • Jessica McCann (@JMcCannWriter) Says:

    Thanks for quoting my review, Melissa, and for hosting Patrick on your blog. What a great idea you two! I loved seeing the photos and going on the road with Patrick once again. The images brought back thoughts and ideas I had while reading his fabulous book. This will be a great post to come back to when I need a refresher and reminder about the rewards of traveling the artist’s road. Nicely done!

    [Reply]

    Patrick Ross Reply:

    Thanks, Jessica! I don’t know why I hadn’t thought about doing something like this before. I just put a permanent link on my home page to this, because it seems like such a great supplement! It’s great for Melissa to host it.

    [Reply]

    Melissa Crytzer Fry Reply:

    Thank YOU, Jessica, for commenting and sharing with everyone the impact of Patrick’s book. It’s next on deck for me!

    [Reply]

  • Kathleen Pooler Says:

    Patrick, I am at the midpoint of your fascinating memoir and love seeing these photos. Even though your writing brings me right into the scenes, seeing these pictures brings your story even more alive. Lovely post, Melissa , about a very inspiring memoir.

    [Reply]

    Patrick Ross Reply:

    Hi Kathleen! Thank you so much for reading it, and I’m thrilled you’re finding it fascinating! 🙂

    [Reply]

    Melissa Crytzer Fry Reply:

    Yes Kathleen, just from the snippets I’ve read of COMMITTED, it seems quite transportive with its carefully chosen and descriptive imagery.

    [Reply]

  • :Donna Says:

    When I first opened Patrick’s book, I wondered why there were no pictures since I’d expected there to be many, even if only in black and white! lol These are a pleasure to see, with the first few being in places I’ve already read about in the book. I still have to get to the rest! Thanks for sharing this 🙂

    [Reply]

    Patrick Ross Reply:

    Yes, a number of folks have poked me a bit for the lack of photos. But beyond the fact that it’s a literary work, I’d note that photos would have increased the printing price and thus the retail price, so better to have them here for free! 🙂

    [Reply]

    :Donna Reply:

    Yeah, I figured it had to do with the printing costs 🙂 Perhaps you can eventually add a page to your site and gradually add more and more pics? 😀 😀 😀

    [Reply]

  • Jackie Cangro Says:

    Thanks so much for sharing these wonderful details of Patrick’s book. The allure of the road trip is so strong in our culture from Kerouac to Faulkner to Twain and Bryson, we writers get a lot of inspiration from crossing the country. I’d love to do it someday. As a follower of his blog, I look forward to reading Patrick’s book.

    [Reply]

    Melissa Crytzer Fry Reply:

    The last time I did a cross-country road trip, I was in seventh grade — hardly old enough to truly appreciate it. Like you, I’d love to do it as well!

    [Reply]

    Patrick Ross Reply:

    Hi Jackie! So glad you’re planning to read the book. I’d note there are references in it to Kerouac’s book, as well as William Least Heat-Moon’s Blue Highways, John Steinbeck’s Charley and Me, Stephen Fry’s Stephen Fry in America, and Robert Pirsig’s Zen and the Art of Motorcycle Maintenance.

    [Reply]

  • Nina Says:

    This was really cool. (Go Spam!) 😉

    It’s been great watching Patrick go through this journey of writing his book. Can’t wait to read it, Patrick!

    [Reply]

    Patrick Ross Reply:

    Thank you, Nina! You’ve been there basically from the beginning; I appreciate your support and hope you like the book.

    [Reply]

    Melissa Crytzer Fry Reply:

    Ha… I had the same reaction to the Spam photo, Nina!

    [Reply]

  • Sherrey Meyer Says:

    Patrick, great to see photos of the places you visited on the road. I especially appreciated seeing that you captured Portland in all its essence, wet essence. We are rain here, and just a little bit weird too! Did you get your bumper sticker that says “Keep Portland Weird?” Teasing here.

    I still open my Kindle every now and then just to read a quote or two I highlighted. Yours is a story that makes me feel good.

    [Reply]

    Patrick Ross Reply:

    You know, Sherrey, I didn’t get a bumper sticker that said that, but I certainly saw the message in a lot of places!

    I’m moved and touched that you still go back to quotes; that’s amazing.

    All, Sherrey wrote a masterful review of Committed, a fine piece of prose in its own right: http://sherreymeyer.com/2014/10/committed-patrick-ross-memoir-review/

    [Reply]

  • Melissa Crytzer Fry Says:

    Patrick – Thank you for visiting my blog this week and sharing such fabulous images and lovely words. I have to say: the photo that struck me the most was the Georgia image of the moss. Having just been to the south (SC) and having run my fingers through the Spanish Moss I-don-t-know-how-many-times, I’m a little worried I have chiggers coursing under my skin! 😉 Let’s hope the same isn’t so for SC?

    Again – thank you for sharing. I’m SO looking forward to reading!

    [Reply]

    Patrick Ross Reply:

    Thank you for hosting me, Melissa! So a confession; the Spanish Moss/chigger reference becomes an extended metaphor through that chapter, so there’s a literary element to its inclusion. But it’s also in there because, like you, I find it so alluring, and it was so disturbing to learn the truth! Things are not always what they seem.

    [Reply]

  • Cynthia Robertson Says:

    Looking forward to starting Committed in Dec. Patrick (after NaNoWriMo is over). Great photos, and if the captions are excerpts of the memoir I am in for a sweet read. 🙂

    [Reply]

  • Charlotte Rains Dixon Says:

    I was fortunate enough to read Committed in an ARC, and it is wonderful to see the photos that came from the trip! I especially love the one of my hometown in the rain–and I’ve been on that stretch of freeway in the Gorge a million times. Wonderful!

    [Reply]

    Melissa Crytzer Fry Reply:

    Hi Charlotte,
    I just started Patrick’s memoir today and I’m so engaged in it already. So nice to see you here supporting Patrick. I’m not sure if you’re in Portland or Charleston (both rainy pics), but every visit I’ve made to SC and Oregon have been filled with rainy skies!

    [Reply]

Leave a Comment