Rick Steves Tells the Story of Fascism’s Rise & Fall in Germany

“Healthy, vig­or­ous, respectable: every­one’s favorite uncle.” How many of us hear these words and think of that most beloved of all Amer­i­can trav­el-tele­vi­sion per­son­al­i­ties, Rick Steves? Indeed, in the video above they’re spo­ken by Steves, though to describe a fig­ure very dif­fer­ent from him­self: Adolf Hitler, who con­vinced his peo­ple not to tour Europe but to invade it, spark­ing the dead­liest con­flict of all time. How and why this hap­pened has been a his­tor­i­cal ques­tion writ­ten about per­haps more volu­mi­nous­ly than any oth­er. But the Stevesian method of under­stand­ing demands first-hand expe­ri­ence of Ger­many, the land in which the Nazi par­ty came to pow­er.

Hence “Ger­many’s Fas­cist Sto­ry,” a 2020 episode of Rick Steves’ Europe whose itin­er­ary includes such des­ti­na­tions as Nurem­berg, site of the epony­mous Nazi ral­lies; Hitler’s moun­tain retreat in Bercht­es­gaden; the Gestapo and SS head­quar­ters in Berlin. We’re a long way indeed from Steves’ usu­al cir­cuit of cathe­drals, mar­kets, and bed-and-break­fasts.

Enriched with the his­tor­i­cal footage and the reflec­tions of Ger­man inter­vie­wees, this trav­el­ogue explains the rise in the 1930s and fall in the 1940s of a pow­er­ful Euro­pean strain of fas­cism. This man­i­fest­ed in pop­u­lar capit­u­la­tion to race-based, nation­al­is­tic, and ulti­mate­ly total­i­tar­i­an state pow­er, not just in Ger­many but oth­er coun­tries also once regard­ed as the cen­ter of Euro­pean civ­i­liza­tion.

We all know how World War II end­ed, and the blue-jeaned Steves sums up the rel­e­vant chap­ter of the sto­ry while stand­ing atop the under­ground bunker in which Hitler killed him­self. But such a defeat can nev­er tru­ly be con­sid­ered final, an idea that under­lies the con­tin­u­ing encour­age­ment of tourism to places like Berlin’s Memo­r­i­al to the Mur­dered Jews of Europe and the con­cen­tra­tion camp of Auschwitz-Birke­nau, which fig­ures briefly into this episode despite being locat­ed in Poland. As any ded­i­cat­ed “Rick­nick” knows, the pur­suit of any giv­en cul­tur­al or his­tor­i­cal inter­est inevitably leads the trav­el­er through a vari­ety of lands. Hence a project like The Sto­ry of Fas­cism, Steves’ hour­long doc­u­men­tary on that ide­ol­o­gy’s traces as found all through­out his favorite con­ti­nent. As he him­self has put it, trav­el is a polit­i­cal act — and it’s one nec­es­sary to under­stand­ing both the pol­i­tics you like and the pol­i­tics you don’t.

For those inter­est­ed in how Steves built his trav­el empire, we’d rec­om­mend lis­ten­ing to Guy Raz’s lengthy inter­view with Steves, one episode in his How I Built This pod­cast.

Relat­ed Con­tent:

The Sto­ry of Fas­cism: Rick Steves’ Doc­u­men­tary Helps Us Learn from the Hard Lessons of the 20th Cen­tu­ry

Rick Steves’ Europe: Binge Watch 9 Sea­sons of America’s Favorite Trav­el­er Free Online

20 Lessons from the 20th Cen­tu­ry About How to Defend Democ­ra­cy from Author­i­tar­i­an­ism, Accord­ing to Yale His­to­ri­an Tim­o­thy Sny­der

How Did Hitler Rise to Pow­er? : New TED-ED Ani­ma­tion Pro­vides a Case Study in How Fas­cists Get Demo­c­ra­t­i­cal­ly Elect­ed

Umber­to Eco Makes a List of the 14 Com­mon Fea­tures of Fas­cism

Based in Seoul, Col­in Mar­shall writes and broad­casts on cities, lan­guage, and cul­ture. His projects include the Sub­stack newslet­ter Books on Cities, the book The State­less City: a Walk through 21st-Cen­tu­ry Los Ange­les and the video series The City in Cin­e­ma. Fol­low him on Twit­ter at @colinmarshall or on Face­book.

A 5‑Hour Walking Tour of Paris and Its Famous Streets, Monuments & Parks

“We’ll always have Paris,” Bog­a­rt tells Bergman in the final scene of Casablan­ca, a line and film insep­a­ra­ble from the grand mythol­o­gy of Paris. The city still inspires non-Parisians to pur­chase Belle Epoque poster art by the shipload and binge Net­flix series in which Paris looks like a “city where the clouds part, your brain clears, and your soul finds mean­ing,” Alex Abad-San­tos writes at Vox. It’s also a place in such media where one can seem to find “suc­cess with­out much sac­ri­fice.”

Paris was the city where Hem­ing­way felt “free… to walk any­where,” he wrote in A Move­able Feast; where James Bald­win wrote in his 1961 essay “New Lost Gen­er­a­tion” of “the days when we walked through Les Halles singing, lov­ing every inch of France and lov­ing each oth­er… the nights spent smok­ing hashish in the Arab cafes… the morn­ing which found us telling dirty sto­ries, true sto­ries, sad and earnest sto­ries, in gray workingman’s cafes.”

The image of Paris has not always been so full of romance and escapism, espe­cial­ly for Parisians like Charles Baude­laire. “For the first time Paris becomes the sub­ject of lyric poet­ry” in Baude­laire, wrote Wal­ter Ben­jamin in The Arcades Project, a major, unfin­ished work on Paris in the 19th cen­tu­ry. Like the expats, Baudelaire’s imag­i­na­tion strolled through the city, freed from respon­si­bil­i­ty. But “the Paris of his poems is a sunken city, and more sub­ma­rine than sub­ter­ranean.”

The Paris of rev­o­lu­tion­ary fer­vor, com­munes, bar­ri­cades, and cat­a­combs… of Rim­baud, Coco Chanel, the Sit­u­a­tion­ists…. There are too many ver­sions of the city of lights; we can­not have them all. For the past year, we have not been able to see any part of it but from afar. Thanks to the mag­ic of YouTube, how­ev­er, we can walk the city for hours — or watch some­one else do it, in any case. The five-hour walk­ing tour at the top may skip the places a mod­ern-day Baude­laire would want us to see, but it does include “the most famous streets, mon­u­ments and parks,” notes the descrip­tion,

You’ll also find here short­er video walk­ing tours of Mont­martre, the Eif­fel Tow­er, and Lux­em­bourg Gar­dens, where Hem­ing­way would often meet Gertrude Stein and her dog, and where he found him­self “learn­ing very much “ from Cézanne about how to move beyond sim­ply “writ­ing sim­ple true sen­tences.” We are unlike­ly to have these kinds of expe­ri­ences on our video walk­ing tours. But we can get a taste of what it’s like to briskly cruise Parisian streets in the 21st cen­tu­ry, an expe­ri­ence increas­ing­ly like­ly to become a vir­tu­al one for future writ­ers, poets, and expats and tourists of all kinds.

Relat­ed Con­tent: 

Take a Vir­tu­al Tour of the Paris Cat­a­combs

Take an Aer­i­al Tour of Medieval Paris

Down­load 200+ Belle Époque Art Posters: An Archive of Mas­ter­pieces from the “Gold­en Age of the Poster” (1880–1918)

Josh Jones is a writer and musi­cian based in Durham, NC. Fol­low him at @jdmagness

A Relaxing 3‑Hour Tour of Venice’s Canals

Expe­ri­ence Venice in this boat tour through 17 miles (27 km) of canals. “You will see the full Grand Canal going in both direc­tions, nav­i­gate through the small canals and under bridges and see sites that you can­not see by walk­ing.” It’s qui­et, med­i­ta­tive, a men­tal escape from the tedi­um of quar­an­tine life.

Right below, you can find a list of the stops along the way…

1:32​ Con­sti­tu­tion Bridge

2:02​ The Grand Canal (Full Tour)

3:23​ San­ta Lucia Train Sta­tion

13:33​ Rial­to Bridge

23:28​ Ponte del­l’Ac­cad­e­mia

30:38​ Piaz­za San Mar­co

36:08​ Small Inside Canals & Bridges

41:05​ Libre­ria Acqua Alta

44:08​ Cam­po San­ti Gio­van­ni e Pao­lo

47:16​ Open Water — Skip ahead to the next sec­tion

57:25​ Canal of Saint Peter

58:18​ Build­ing Bridges Sculp­ture

1:09:55​ Bridge of Sighs

1:16:15​ Rial­to Bridge & Grand Canal

1:18:39​ Small Inside Canals & Bridges

1:23:04​ The Grand Canal

1:27:14​ Pont del­l’Ac­cad­e­mia

1:34:44​ Rial­to Bridge

1:43:34​ Ponte delle Guglie

1:46:04​ Tre Archi Bridge

1:48:38​ Lib­er­ty Bridge (Ponte del­la Lib­ertà)

1:54:18​ Con­sti­tu­tion Bridge

1:58:38​ Close Call!

2:04:43​ Squero di San Trova­so (gon­do­la boat­yard)

2:07:23​ Grand Canal (short sec­tion)

2:10:44​ Small Canals and Bridges

2:17:14​ Grand Canal (short sec­tion)

2:20:14​ Mag­is­ter Cano­va

2:22:04​ Open Water

2:26:14​ Small Inside Canals & Bridges

2:30:44​ Piaz­za San Mar­co

2:33:04​ The Grand Canal (Full Tour)

Relat­ed Con­tent:

How Venice Works: 124 Islands, 183 Canals & 438 Bridges

Venice in Beau­ti­ful Col­or Images 125 Years Ago: The Rial­to Bridge, St. Mark’s Basil­i­ca, Doge’s Palace & More

The Venice Time Machine: 1,000 Years of Venice’s His­to­ry Gets Dig­i­tal­ly Pre­served with Arti­fi­cial Intel­li­gence and Big Data

Pink Floyd Plays in Venice on a Mas­sive Float­ing Stage in 1989; Forces the May­or & City Coun­cil to Resign

A Short Biography of Keith Haring Told with Comic Book Illustrations & Music

Singer-song­writer-car­toon­ist Jef­frey Lewis is a wor­thy exem­plar of NYC street cred.

Born, raised, and still resid­ing on New York City’s Low­er East Side, he draws comics under the “judg­men­tal” gaze of The Art of Daniel Clowes: Mod­ern Car­toon­ist and writes songs beneath a poster of The Ter­mi­na­tor onto which he graft­ed the face of Lou Reed from a stolen Time Out New York pro­mo.

Billing him­self as “among NYC’s top slingers of folk / garage­rock / antifolk,” Lewis pairs his songs with comics dur­ing live shows, pro­ject­ing orig­i­nal illus­tra­tions or flip­ping the pages of a sketch­book large enough for the audi­ence to see, a prac­tice he refers to as “low bud­get films.”

He’s also an ama­teur his­to­ri­an, as evi­denced by his eight-minute opus The His­to­ry of Punk on the Low­er East Side, 1950–1975 and  a series of extreme­ly “low bud­get films” for the His­to­ry chan­nel, on top­ics such as the French Rev­o­lu­tionMar­co Polo, and the fall of the Sovi­et Union.

His lat­est effort is a 3‑minute biog­ra­phy of artist Kei­th Har­ing, above, for the Muse­um of Mod­ern Art Mag­a­zine’s new Illus­trat­ed Lives series.

While Lewis isn’t a con­tem­po­rary of Haring’s, they def­i­nite­ly breathed the same air:

While Har­ing was spend­ing a cou­ple of for­ma­tive years involved with Club 57 and PS 122, there was lit­tle six-year-old me walk­ing down the street, so I can remem­ber and draw that ear­ly ’80s Low­er East Side/East Vil­lage with­out much stretch. My whole brain is made out of fire escapes and fire hydrants and ten­e­ment cor­nices.

Lewis gives then-ris­ing stars Jean-Michel Basquiat and per­for­mance artist Klaus Nomi cameo appear­ances, before escort­ing Har­ing down into the sub­way for a lit­er­al light­bulb moment.

In Haring’s own words:

…It seemed obvi­ous to me when I saw the first emp­ty sub­way pan­el that this was the per­fect sit­u­a­tion. The adver­tise­ments that fill every sub­way plat­form are changed peri­od­i­cal­ly. When there aren’t enough new ads, a black paper pan­el is sub­sti­tut­ed. I remem­ber notic­ing a pan­el in the Times Square sta­tion and imme­di­ate­ly going above­ground and buy­ing chalk. After the first draw­ing, things just fell into place. I began draw­ing in the sub­ways as a hob­by on my way to work. I had to ride the sub­ways often and would do a draw­ing while wait­ing for a train. In a few weeks, I start­ed to get respons­es from peo­ple who saw me doing it.

After a while, my sub­way draw­ings became more of a respon­si­bil­i­ty than a hob­by. So many peo­ple wished me luck and told me to “keep it up” that it became dif­fi­cult to stop. From the begin­ning, one of the main incen­tives was this con­tact with peo­ple. It became a reward­ing expe­ri­ence to draw and to see the draw­ings being appre­ci­at­ed. The num­ber of peo­ple pass­ing one of these draw­ings in a week was phe­nom­e­nal. Even if the draw­ing only remained up for only one day, enough peo­ple saw it to make it eas­i­ly worth my effort.

Towards the end of his jam-packed, 22-page “low bud­get film,” Lewis wan­ders from his tra­di­tion­al approach to car­toon­ing, reveal­ing him­self to be a keen stu­dent of Haring’s bold graph­ic style.

The final image, to the lyric, “Keith’s explo­sive short life­time and gen­er­ous heart speak like an infi­nite foun­tain from some deep well­spring of art,” is breath­tak­ing.

Spend time with some oth­er New York City icons that have cropped up in Jef­frey Lewis’ music, includ­ing the Chelsea Hotel, the sub­waythe bridges, and St. Mark’s Place.

Watch his low bud­get films for the His­to­ry Chan­nel here.

Relat­ed Con­tent: 

Kei­th Haring’s Eclec­tic Jour­nal Entries Go Online

An Ani­mat­ed His­to­ry of Dogs, Inspired by Kei­th Har­ing

The Sto­ry of Jean-Michel Basquiat’s Rise in the 1980s Art World Gets Told in a New Graph­ic Nov­el

Ayun Hal­l­i­day is an author, illus­tra­tor, the­ater mak­er and Chief Pri­ma­tol­o­gist of the East Vil­lage Inky zine. Fol­low her @AyunHalliday.

Download 280 Pictographs That Put Japanese Culture Into a New Visual Language: They’re Free for the Public to Use

“One of the biggest con­sid­er­a­tions when trav­el­ing to Japan is its inscrutable lan­guage,” writes Design­boom’s Juliana Neira. But then, one might also con­sid­er mak­ing that lan­guage more scrutable — and mak­ing one’s expe­ri­ence in Japan much rich­er — by learn­ing some of it. Kan­ji, the Chi­nese char­ac­ters used in the writ­ten Japan­ese lan­guage, may at first look like small, often bewil­der­ing­ly com­plex pic­tures, and many assume they visu­al­ly evoke the mean­ings they express. In fact, to use the lin­guis­tic terms, they’re not pic­tograms, rep­re­sen­ta­tions of thoughts or ideas, but logograms, rep­re­sen­ta­tions of words or parts of words.

Resem­ble minia­ture works of art though they often do, kan­ji aren’t entire­ly unsys­tem­at­ic. This helps begin­ning learn­ers get a han­dle on the first and most essen­tial char­ac­ters of the thou­sands they’ll even­tu­al­ly need to know.

So does the fact that some of them, in ori­gin, real­ly are pic­to­graph­ic — that is, they look like the mean­ing of the word they rep­re­sent — or at least pic­to­graph­ic enough to make them teach­able through images. The Japan­ese word for “moun­tain,” to cite an ele­men­tary exam­ple, is 山; “riv­er” is 川; “tree” is 木. Alas, most of us who enjoy the 山, 川, and 木 of Japan — to say noth­ing of the 書店 and 喫茶店 in its cities — haven’t been able to vis­it them at all in this past pan­dem­ic year.

“After expe­ri­enc­ing years of tourism growth, tourists to Japan are down over 95% due to the pan­dem­ic,” writes Spoon & Tam­ago’s John­ny Wald­man. “Graph­ic design­er Kenya Hara and his firm Nip­pon Design Cen­ter have self-ini­ti­at­ed a project to release over 250 pic­tograms — free for any­one to use — in sup­port of tourism in Japan from a visu­al design per­spec­tive.” Col­lec­tive­ly ban­nered the Expe­ri­ence Japan Pic­tograms, these clear and evoca­tive icons rep­re­sent a wide range of the places and activ­i­ties one can enjoy in the Land of the Ris­ing Sun: ski­ing and surf­ing, cal­lig­ra­phy and open-air hot-spring bathing, Gin­za and Asakusa, Toky­o’s Skytree and Osaka’s Tsūtenkaku Tow­er.

The Expe­ri­ence Japan Pic­tograms hard­ly fail to include the glo­ries of Japan­ese cui­sine — sushi, tem­pu­ra, soba, and even the Japan­i­fied han­bāgā — which piques so many for­eign­ers’ inter­est in Japan to begin with. Click on any of them and you’ll see a brief cul­tur­al and his­tor­i­cal expla­na­tion of the item, activ­i­ty, place, or con­cept in ques­tion, along with the rel­e­vant Japan­ese term (in kan­ji where applic­a­ble) and its pro­nun­ci­a­tion. You can also down­load them in the col­or scheme of your choice and use them for any pur­pos­es you like, includ­ing com­mer­cial ones. The more wide­ly adopt­ed they are, the more con­ve­nient Japan­ese tourism will become for those who don’t read Japan­ese. Those who do can hard­ly deny the plea­sure of hav­ing anoth­er Japan­ese lan­guage to learn — and a tru­ly pic­to­graph­ic one at that.

via Spoon & Tam­a­go

Relat­ed Con­tent:

Learn Japan­ese Free

Vin­tage 1930s Japan­ese Posters Artis­ti­cal­ly Mar­ket the Won­ders of Trav­el

Dis­cov­er Iso­type, the 1920s Attempt to Cre­ate a Uni­ver­sal Lan­guage with Styl­ish Icons & Graph­ic Design

The Hobo Code: An Intro­duc­tion to the Hiero­glyph­ic Lan­guage of Ear­ly 1900s Train-Hop­pers

Google Makes Avail­able 750 Icons for Design­ers & Devel­op­ers: All Open Source 

Braille Neue: A New Ver­sion of Braille That Can Be Simul­ta­ne­ous­ly Read by the Sight­ed and the Blind

Based in Seoul, Col­in Mar­shall writes and broad­casts on cities, lan­guage, and cul­ture. His projects include the Sub­stack newslet­ter Books on Cities, the book The State­less City: a Walk through 21st-Cen­tu­ry Los Ange­les and the video series The City in Cin­e­ma. Fol­low him on Twit­ter at @colinmarshall or on Face­book.

The Surface of Mars Shown in Stunning 4K Resolution

Could you use a men­tal escape? Some­thing that trans­ports you beyond the con­fines of your pan­dem­ic-nar­rowed world? Maybe a trip to Mars will do the trick. Above and below, you can find high def­i­n­i­tion footage cap­tured by NASA’s three Mars rovers–Spirit, Oppor­tu­ni­ty and Curios­i­ty. The footage (also con­tributed by JPL-Cal­techMSSSCor­nell Uni­ver­si­ty and ASU) was stitched togeth­er by Elder­Fox Doc­u­men­taries, cre­at­ing what they call the most life­like expe­ri­ence of being on Mars.

Safe trav­els.

If you would like to sup­port the mis­sion of Open Cul­ture, con­sid­er mak­ing a dona­tion to our site. It’s hard to rely 100% on ads, and your con­tri­bu­tions will help us con­tin­ue pro­vid­ing the best free cul­tur­al and edu­ca­tion­al mate­ri­als to learn­ers every­where. You can con­tribute through Pay­Pal, Patre­on, and Ven­mo (@openculture). Thanks!

via Laugh­ing Squid

Relat­ed Con­tent:

Carl Sagan Presents Six Lec­tures on Earth, Mars & Our Solar Sys­tem … For Kids (1977)

Mars Rover, Curios­i­ty, Will Face Sev­en Min­utes of Ter­ror on August 5

NASA Releas­es a Mas­sive Online Archive: 140,000 Pho­tos, Videos & Audio Files Free to Search and Down­load

Leonard Nimoy Nar­rates Short Film About NASA’s Dawn: A Voy­age to the Ori­gins of the Solar Sys­tem

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Travel from Rotterdam to Amsterdam in 10 Minutes by Boat: A 4k Timelapse

In 2013, a boat trav­eled from Rot­ter­dam to Ams­ter­dam, with a time­lapse cam­era installed 30 meters high. The result­ing film “gives a unique and stun­ning view of the old Dutch water­ways, in 4K.” And lots of bridges along the way.

All images were shot with a Canon 550d at an inter­val of 3 sec­onds. 30,000 pic­tures were tak­en in total. Ini­tial­ly, “the film could­n’t be pub­lished due to restric­tions. After a few years it was for­got­ten.” But now it has been res­ur­rect­ed, and it’s online.

If you would like to sup­port the mis­sion of Open Cul­ture, con­sid­er mak­ing a dona­tion to our site. It’s hard to rely 100% on ads, and your con­tri­bu­tions will help us con­tin­ue pro­vid­ing the best free cul­tur­al and edu­ca­tion­al mate­ri­als to learn­ers every­where. You can con­tribute through Pay­Pal, Patre­on, and Ven­mo (@openculture). Thanks!

Relat­ed Con­tent:

16th-Cen­tu­ry Ams­ter­dam Stun­ning­ly Visu­al­ized with 3D Ani­ma­tion

How Venice Works: 124 Islands, 183 Canals & 438 Bridges

The Rijksmu­se­um in Ams­ter­dam Has Dig­i­tized 709,000 Works of Art, Includ­ing Famous Works by Rem­brandt and Ver­meer

Revis­it Scenes of Dai­ly Life in Ams­ter­dam in 1922, with His­toric Footage Enhanced by Arti­fi­cial Intel­li­gence

Take a Road Trip Across America with Cartoonist Lynda Barry in the 90s Documentary, Grandma’s Way Out Party

Who wouldn’t love to take a road trip with beloved car­toon­ist and edu­ca­tor Lyn­da Bar­ry? As evi­denced by Grandma’s Way Out Par­ty, above, an ear­ly-90s doc­u­men­tary made for Twin Cities Pub­lic Tele­vi­sion, Bar­ry not only finds the humor in every sit­u­a­tion, she’s always up for a detour, whether to a time hon­ored des­ti­na­tion like Mount Rush­more or Old Faith­ful, or a more impul­sive pit­stop, like a Wash­ing­ton state car repair shop dec­o­rat­ed with sculp­tures made from cast off muf­flers or the Mon­tana State Prison Hob­by Store.

Alter­nat­ing in the driver’s seat with then-boyfriend, sto­ry­teller Kevin Kling, she makes up songs on her accor­dion, clowns around in a cheap cow­girl hat, sam­ples an over­sized gas sta­tion donut, and chats up every­one she encoun­ters.

At the World’s Only Corn Palace in Mitchell, South Dako­ta, she breaks the ice by ask­ing a beard­ed local guy in offi­cial Corn Palace cap and t‑shirt if his job is the ful­fill­ment of a long held dream.

“Nah,” he says. “I thought it was a joke … in Far­go, they call it the world’s biggest bird feed­er. We do have the biggest birds in South Dako­ta. They get fed good.”

He leads them to Cal Schultz, the art teacher who designed over 25 years worth of murals fes­toon­ing the exte­ri­or walls. Nudged by Bar­ry to pick a favorite, Schultz choos­es one that his 9th grade stu­dents worked on.

“I would have loved to have been in his class,” Bar­ry, a teacher now her­self, says emphat­i­cal­ly. “I would have giv­en any­thing to have worked on a Corn Palace when I was 14-years-old.”

This point is dri­ven home with a quick view of her best known cre­ation, the pig­tailed, bespec­ta­cled Marlys, osten­si­bly ren­dered in corn—an hon­or Marlys would no doubt appre­ci­ate.

Bar­ry has long been laud­ed for her under­stand­ing of and respect for children’s inner lives, and we see this nat­ur­al affin­i­ty in action when she befriends Desmond and Jake, two young par­tic­i­pants in the Crow Fair Pow Wowjust south of Billings, Mon­tana.

Frus­trat­ed by her inabil­i­ty to get a han­dle on the pro­ceed­ings (“Why didn’t I learn it in school!? Why wasn’t it part of our cur­ricu­lum?”), Bar­ry retreats to the com­fort of her sketch­book, which attracts the curi­ous boys. Even­tu­al­ly, she draws their por­traits to give them as keep­sakes, get­ting to know them bet­ter in the process.

The draw­ings they make in return are trea­sured by the recip­i­ent, not least for the win­dow they pro­vide on the cul­ture with which they are so casu­al­ly famil­iar.

Bar­ry and Kling also chance upon the Stur­gis Motor­cy­cle Ral­ly, and after a bite at the Road Kill Cafe (“from your grill to ours”), Bar­ry wax­es philo­soph­i­cal about the then-unusu­al sight of so much tat­tooed flesh:

There’s some­thing about the fact that they want some­thing on them that they can’t wash off, that even on days when they don’t want peo­ple to know they’re a bik­er, it’s still there. And I have always loved that about peo­ple, like …drag queens who will shave off their eye­brows so they can draw per­fect eye­brows on, or any­body who knows they’re dif­fer­ent and does some­thing to them­selves phys­i­cal­ly so that even on their bad days, they can’t deny it. Because I think that in the end, that’s sort of what saves your life, that you wear your col­ors. You can’t help it.

The afore­men­tioned muf­fler store prompts some mus­ings that will be very famil­iar to any­one who has immersed them­selves in Mak­ing ComicsPic­ture This, or any oth­er of Barry’s instruc­tion­al books con­tain­ing her won­der­ful­ly loopy, intu­itive cre­ative exer­cis­es:

I think this urge to cre­ate is actu­al­ly our ani­mal instinct. And what’s sad is if we don’t let that come through us, I don’t think we have a full life on this earth. And I think we get sick because of it. I mean, it’s weird that it’s an instinct, but it’s an option, just like you can take a wild ani­mal, a beau­ti­ful, wild ani­mal and put him in a zoo. They live, they’re fine in their cage, but you don’t get to see them do the thing that a chee­tah does best, which is, you know, just run like the wind and be able to jump and do the things… I mean, it’s our instinct, it’s instinc­tu­al, it’s our beau­ti­ful, beau­ti­ful, mag­i­cal, poet­ic, mys­te­ri­ous instinct. And every once in a while, you see the flower of it come right up out of a gas sta­tion. 

After 1653 miles and one squab­ble after over­shoot­ing a sched­uled stop (“You don’t want me to go to Butte!”), the two arrive at their final des­ti­na­tion, Barry’s child­hood home in Seat­tle. The occa­sion? Barry’s Fil­ipino grandmother’s 83rd birth­day, and plans are afoot for a potluck bash at the local VFW hall. Fans will swoon to meet this ven­er­at­ed lady and the rest of Barry’s extend­ed clan, and hear Barry’s reflec­tions on what it was like to grow up in a work­ing class neigh­bor­hood where most of the fam­i­lies were mul­ti-racial.

“I walked in and it was every­thing Lyn­da said,” Kling mar­vels.

Indeed.

The jour­ney is every­thing we could have hoped for, too.

Lis­ten to a post-trip inter­view with Kling on Min­neso­ta Pub­lic Radio.

H/t to read­er Char­lotte Book­er

Relat­ed Con­tent:

Lyn­da Bar­ry on How the Smart­phone Is Endan­ger­ing Three Ingre­di­ents of Cre­ativ­i­ty: Lone­li­ness, Uncer­tain­ty & Bore­dom

Car­toon­ist Lyn­da Bar­ry Shows You How to Draw Bat­man in Her UW-Madi­son Course, “Mak­ing Comics”

Lyn­da Barry’s New Book Offers a Mas­ter Class in Mak­ing Comics

Ayun Hal­l­i­day is an author, illus­tra­tor, the­ater mak­er and Chief Pri­ma­tol­o­gist of the East Vil­lage Inky zine — cur­rent issue: #63 Fol­low her @AyunHalliday.

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