Turek Lane Umatilla Florida

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Cheré Carr, my real estate agent arranged for us to see two properties on my list. This property on Turek Lane in Umatilla, Florida has a dock right on a lake. One thing I keep thinking would be nice is a place to launch a kayak.

I had time to do this sketch since Chere was running late. Instead of getting upset, I seized the opportunity to block in a sketch. My pen ran out of ink so I used my brush pen. The brush pen ink bleeds when water color is added. I will replace the ink at some point.

As I was doing this sketch the next door neighbor rode over on his gold cart to see what I was doing. He let me know that the lake has some of the largest bass in central Florida. He tends to catch and release. He has a woodworking workshop and across the street from the place I was looking at he has two goats in a field. They were baaing the whole time I sketched. I thought I heard a shriek of a peacock but he said I must be mistaken.

The landscaping on the property I was looking at was rather barren. There was one lone tree next to the house up front and several small palm trees out back. The front lawn was burnt out. I would want to replace it with a native ground cover. In back I would want to start some raised bed planters to grow vegetables and herbs. I’m sure planters up front would look good as well if tastefully done. What the property needs is a whole lot of lush plants. If course all that would take time. I would also want to replace the shingle roof with a metal roof. The 4 other homes on the dirt road all have metal roofs which can last 70 years.

The dock is rather rickety. The first few boards are rotted through. As I walked out Chere shouted out, “You should leave your sketchbook behind!” I liked her thinking, which was save the sketchbook, and let the artist drown if he wants too. She didn’t dare walk on the rickety dock. Repairing the dock wold be another big project.

There is a small granny shack behind the property. It might be nice as a Air B&B for fishermen. I would seldom use the shack and it would need to be air conditioned to keep out mold. We opened the refrigerator and it was nasty, with tons of black mold. The refrigerator had clearly been unplugged for quite a while. That would have to go.

There is a large sun filled room in the main house that would work great as the studio. Every room smelled of cigarettes. A candle was lit to mask the smell but that didn’t work. Amazingly the place has a root cellar where I could store mason jars full of vegetables and jams.

Surrounding the property is farm land and orange groves. It is an absolute country escape, but my eye is still trained on a bigger homestead not far away.

P.E.A.R. Reserve

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Once back at the Yalaha Studio after the surgery, I was not content to sit around and wait to recover. I was in the yard cutting roots from a giant uprooted tree for firewood and in the afternoon I suggested we all go for a hike at P.E.A.R. Reserve (4800 University Blvd, Leesburg, FL).

My sister Pat was visiting from Port Charlotte and Just Jim was camping out on the back patio after coming from Ohio to see Stella Arbelaez‘s Masters Thesis presentation. The reserve is only about a quarter of a mile from the Yalaha studio, so me piled into Pat’s car and drove over.

Jim is a hard core hiker, so the trail was easy for him, but Pat started getting winded. We paces ourselves to a public bench overlooking the river. Pat and Jim sat on the bench and I moved my art stool closer to a haggard tree which resembled an octopus. The river was perfectly still with yellow and orange leaves floating on the surface. At one point Jim noted that eh river was moving. I glanced up and sure enough the leaves started flowing to the left. I don’t know why but I thought the river should flow right. It turns out the wind was blowing the leaves making it seem like the rives was flowing for a fraction of a second.

Finding order in the chaos of nature is always a challenge. The twisted tree roots offered a definite focal point. It felt nice to get out in the sun and walk. Pat had to admit that she felt better after the hike. Her legs and hips were not as stiff.

While hiking out, I saw a second scene that I definitely want to return to sketch. It was closer to the water with a massive grouping of roots and the sky reflected a much richer blue off the water’s surface. I’ll be back.

Recovery Room

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After my operation where I was essentially neutered like a stray dog with a laser shoved up the old flag pole, my sister Pat Thorspecken -Nepalitano came to visit the Yalaha Studio to take care of me in case anything went south in my recovery. Pat felt I would not be able to get up into the Princess and the Pea bed I usually sleep in. That bed involves stepping up on my flat files to jump up onto the mattress which is about 4 feet off the ground since there are 2 mattresses, a box spring, a bed frame and an extra pillow mat. Stella Arbelaez was off at UCF in Orlando where she is renting a place for convenience near classes, as she works towards her masters degree, and she was kind enough to let me use her bed at the Yalaha Studio, which is much lower, during my recovery. I stripped the beds and remade them both before surgery. I made sure to put protective pads on Stella’s bed just in case I might bleed out in the middle of the night. If I was bleeding I would bleed on my own sheets.

I was told, I might be on narcotics for the pain and my sister brought a walker and a cane, thinking I would not be able to get around. However the only pain medication I was given was over the counter Tylenol and I got around just fine. Instead of being convalescent, I ended up playing the part of the host. I made a lasagna so everyone would have something to eat over the course of the week. There was more than enough food since friends of Stella had dropped off some items and Pat brought several bags of groceries with her from Port Charlotte, Florida.

That weekend I hiked with Pat and Just Jeff at Pear Park (26701 US Hwy 27, Leesburg, Fl) as a way to get out into the sunshine and experience natures healing power. I got a decent sketch at the river on that walk. I also cut off roots from a huge root ball in the side yard of the Yalaha Studio, left over from a fallen tree from hurricane Milton with garden sheers. Jeff dug in and cut off several of the larger roots with a reciprocating saw. We had a fire in the fire pit each night which always calms my nerves.

The room pictured above had a calming effect on me. There was a faux Franklin Furnace and I would turn it on at night and watch the faux flames and the lights that would dance on the walls. The effect was mesmerizing and would instantly put me to sleep. Now that my sister has left, it is quiet again in the Yalaha Studio. I have moved back to the Princess and the Pea bed since I have no problem hopping up. Life has started to return to normal although my insides still feel akimbo like they have been scrambled and have to find their way back home. Instead of lying still, I went to see several more homes yesterday, which might make good studios. Since I am now a tumbleweed, it is hard to figure out where I should settle. Home is where the heart is and I am still searching for it.

Discharge

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I had to spend one day in the hospital to be sure the operation was a success. I woke up hungry.I had not eaten for well over 24 hours. The previous night I vomited any time anyone approached me with food since I had a horrible reaction to the anesthesia. That is how the nurse explained it. In my mind however it might have been the thought that they were offering me hospital food which is notorious for being bad.

On this morning however I ate the scrambled eggs and hash browns like my life depended on it. There were 4 vanilla puddings and I ate them as well. Once done, I waited for the doctor to discharge me. He wanted me to walk the hallways to settle all my scrambled organs. I had to build up what he  called flow. My job for the day was to pee into a container and show the nurse. Once I had urinated enough, I could leave.

When I woke up I was attached to a catheter. That is a plastic tube shoved up my flag pole and urine would leak out the tube into a round plastic bag hanging from the side of the bed. My urine was blood tinged. Not pure thick blood red but watered down resembling strawberry Kool-Aid. I also had on lower leg wraps which were heated and they vibrated massaging my legs. I really liked those, and was sad to leave then behind. As I was waiting much later in the day, I put them back on just because I liked the sensation.

I walked the hallway while holding my IV bag full of bloody urine. The back of the bag was opaque, so I turned that side outward so as not to shock the other patients in their rooms. There was a score board to count laps and I think I did about 15 laps around the ward. I just wanted to be sure I was winning on the score board. I was a man with a mission. The catheter was taped to my let so that there wasn’t too much tension pulling on my James Dean as I walked. I kept my hand on that tape as I walked to be sure it stayed in place.

The doctor came in to remove the catheter. I dreaded the process. He approached my business nonchalantly with scissors. I shut my eyelids hard as he snipped a bulb off a plastic tube. Then with one quick yank he pulled the tube out of me. It is like ripping off a band aid. the faster you do it the less time you have to react in horror. I was also removed from the IVs at 6am. I was now free to move about. It was strange not being concerned with tubes hanging out of me.

I drank bottle after bottle of water but only an agonizing blood red dribble leaked out of me in the bathroom. Maybe the escape tunnel had collapsed. My sister Pat called and she was on her way to the hospital to pick me up. I let her know it could be some time, but she insisted. I drank many more bottles of water, while she and I chatted on the couch. It seemed any time the nurse came to check on me I was in the bathroom. Pat relayed the messages. Finally I started peeing like a race horse. The burning was still there but less so. By the time the doctor approved my discharge, the sun was about to set.

Pat drove back to Yalaha, with Just Jim navigating. I lay in the back seat. I managed to last the whole drive back without having to take a pit stop. That in itself was a miracle. Back at the studio, I discovered that someone had stolen my iPhone charger from the hotel room. The charger was held together with black electrical tape so it wasn’t a great loss. Amazingly my wallet was untouched. Pt found me a new charger the next day at Dollar General.

My sister Pat was staying at the studio for a few days to be sure nothing went south.

Post Op

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There was a Post Operation room I went to at Orlando Health Central on West Colonial Drive in Ocoee. That is the hospital that looks like a clown school. When I woke up from anesthesia, I was relieved to see that KC Cali was there. Her joking snapped me awake with laughter. I was slurring my words but it was good to have a friend to talk to. My general impression was that the operation went as planned. The doctor and then KC filled me in on the details.

As the doctor described it, a laser had been guided up my penis and it was inserted into the prostate. The outer edges of the inside of the prostate were pealed much like an orange and then the instrument was shoved like a finger into an orange to separate the sections. The prostate was sucked out from the core outward. All this was done deep inside my pelvis, I thought there would be more pain, but I was just given a Tylenol.

Soon I was wheeled up to the room and KC sat on the couch keeping me engaged and entertained. Nurse after nurse entered taking vitals and introducing themselves. There was a convenient board at the foot of the bed on the wall with names and numbers and a description of the procedure, which was removing my prostate.

I hadn’t eaten for over 24 hours. I was hooked up to the IVs which helped hydrate me a bit. Then a nurse wheeled in a table of food which fits over the bed I was lying in. I looked at it and hesitated. I was hungry, but also my head started swimming. I took deep breaths. I felt like I might faint. Also on the table with the food were foot long blue plastic tubes. Those were like airline barf bags. I grabbed one quickly and retched, filling it half up. There was nothing in my stomach but water, but even that feels awful coming up. KC jumped up from the couch and helped and disposed of the blue tube. Soon a nurse was checking on me and I was given a pill which I was told would stop the nausea. KC chatted with me for a while and I started to feel better. I decided to try some food again and the nurse wheeled the table over my belly. I grabbed a blue tube and immediately retched again. The nurse explained that I was having a bad reaction to the anesthesia. I wretched about 4 times.

KC was a saint through all this and managed to keep me in high spirits. A much stronger anti nausea drug was pumped directly into the IV bag. I started to feel better but now the drug was making me tired. I gave up on the notion of food. KC read me a long list of events happening in Upstate New York. The one I remember best was goat racing with snow shoes. Now that is the sketch opportunity I have always dreamed of! Maybe I am imagining that, I was in a sort of fever dream. My eye lids were getting heavy and KC quietly slipped away when I drifted off. It is rare to find a friend like this.

The sketch above was done the next morning. KC had told me that I would not get much sleep and she was right. About every half hour a nurse would come in and ask questions and take  some vital sign. I dropped back to sleep immediately after each nurse left and the next morning I felt good enough to sketch. Pigeons roosted right above my room window, I could see then swoop in and arch up to land. Some of them pooped on the landing approach and splashed the window.

This would prove to be a long day to see if the operation had been a success or a failure.

PRE-Op

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My urethra was being choked off by my prostate. Because of this I would have to pee every half hour or so and could not sleep through the night. Worst, I couldn’t sit through and complete a sketch. It became unbearable. The prostate produces the fluids for male ejaculations. I decided to get an operation that would remove the prostate. I would no longer be able to have children but I would recover some normalcy to my life.

KC Cali volunteered to be my Health Care Surrogate for the operation. She had been through several harrowing hospital experiences with her husband Bob Szafranski, so she had experience with doctors and the hospital system. Having her join me was the smartest thing I did going into surgery. My sister Pat Thorspecken-Napolitano drove up from Port Charlotte to drive me to the hospital and back. Just Jeff who was in Yalaha from Ohio to see Stella Arbelaez‘s UCF Masters Thesis Presentation joined us to help Pat drive back to Yalaha. He was a huge help. KC was driving from a different direction and we met her in front of the hospital.

Security and reception were fairly simple and then we went to the second floor. There I was separated from my Health Care Surrogate. The whole point of having KC there was to have a second set of eyes and ears going into the process. Before I signed away my life on the three long forms, I took pictures of those forms and sent them to KC to see if she had second thoughts. Once you read that Death might be one of the side effects, you start to have second thoughts. Once those forms were filled out and collected, KC could come back to my Pre-Op cubicle.

First thing I had to do was get dressed in the hospital garb, which included a gown which was incredibly complicated with snaps and belts. It might have actually been a straight jacket. There were knee high garters I had to wear that were insanely tight. They were to protect against blood clots during the operation. KC had to explain how to put them on by rolling them up like women’s stockings. After that she disappeared behind the curtain for the sake of my privacy. Socks had rubber strips on then to avoid slipping in the hallways. Lying on the gurney helped hide the fact that my butt cheeks wanted to escape the open flaps out back.

A barrage of tests followed, blood pressure tests, a heart rate monitor on the tip of my finger and a hook up for an IV. KC had the genius idea that I should ask for the IV on my left hand so my right hand remained free to sketch. Once snuggled under the blanket on the gurney, I started sketch as did KC. It turns out my new fountain pen bleeds when water color washes were added to the sketch. I had to live with it. My other fountain pen was out of ink.

Then doctor Amin who was performing the operation, nurses, the anesthetist, and  a barrage of other techs each came in one at a time to ask questions. As my nervousness rose, KC kept me amused and entertained with her stories and my sketching calmed me down. Soon I was given a mild sedative. I was told that I might not remember anything that happened. KC was the last person I saw as I was drifting off. I said, “Who are you?” She smiled and I was out immediately. When I opened my eyes, KC was there in a differed Post Op area. I was slurring my words but the pain was minimal.

Yalaha Bakery

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I decided to start hiking from the Yalaha Studio to explore and sketch. The Yalaha Bakery is Yalaha’s only tourist attraction. The great thing is that is only across the street from the entrance to the community my studio now inhabits.

Traffic on 48 the road the bakery is on is intense but I got used to it during the walk. Stella told me that during bike week this place gets insanely packed with motor cycles. I plan to return to do a series of sketches on that week. I have been inside the bakery twice now. The first time I had strudel which is delicious and the second time I had a coconut delight and it was life changing. It takes every ounce of will power to keep me from hiking across the road every day to experience that taste sensation once again. I just told my sister Pat that if I am in extreme pain after my surgery today, she should get a Coconut delight and I am certain that any pain will disappear.

Today I can not have breakfast and bloody hell I desperately want to make a scrambled egg on to of a butter slathered toasted Thomas’s muffin. Maybe I shouldn’t write about it since it seems to be making me more hungry. I’ll go have a cup of water that should hold me until I am put under anesthesia. Anyway today waiting for surgery should be a good sketching experience. I have a mini sketch kit in my day bag. I will be in the hospital overnight so that must be a sketch opportunity. I heard nurses come in every half hour to draw blood or get blood pressure so that could be many sketch opportunities.

The Cathedral Comes Down

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On February 25, 2025 Stella Alberaez  asked me to help her dismantle and pack away The Cathedral into a U-Haul. I got up at 5am for an early morning drive down to the UCF Gallery. It was a glorious drive with literally no traffic until I got close to Orlando. Stella had to pick up the U-Haul truck and there was some type of complication. I was thankful, since it gave me time to sketch the installation piece.

While sketching, a flock of herons few overhead. They made an amazing honking racket. They glided down to a grass field beside The Cathedral. Once on the ground they continued honking. Something about the herons flying overhead was truly beautiful. The piece is meant to allow the viewer to experience the enormity of the natural world, while bringing forth a profound awareness that we are a small part of a large but delicate ecosystem.  As Stella said, “The Cathedral offered deeper appreciation of life by prompting reflection on the fleeting nature of human existence, contrasted against the timeless and majestic presence of the environment that surround us.” I felt all of that as the herons flew overhead on the cool, misty, and otherwise quiet morning.

Slowly the parking lots filled with cars and the art students filed into the building. A grounds keeper fired up a loud edger and the herons flew off. The noise and clutter of humanity began to encroach. The Cathedral felt so much larger on that peaceful morning. The last time I had sketched it was at night and it blended into the dark night sky. Here its bold silhouette was predominant against the sky which turned from a dark grey to pure light.

I tried pulling up some stakes before Stella arrived but, like King Arthur’s sword, they were stubbornly impossible to pull up. I decided there must be a tool needed to do the job. Many bamboo stalks were tied to the metal ring with natural string. I tried untying one with my fingernails but the knots just got tighter.  Bolts refused to budge as I tried to loosen them with my fingers. This sculpture wanted to remain standing. When Stella arrived she had a tool box with all the tools we would need. I snipped the strings with a wire cutter but better yet, she had an Exacto Blade which made the job simple. One by one the bamboo poles were walked over to a spot in the grass where Stella would later park the U-Haul.

With few poles left the metal ring became unstable and Stella had to hold it up by balancing it on her shoulders. She looked like Atlas holding up the world. When the final bold let loose the ring was gently lowered to the ground by both of us. It then rolled a short bit, and fell to the grass. It too needed to be disassembled into two strips of metal. I asked about the price of The Cathedral but Stella told me it is not for sale. It would make a magnificent centerpiece to a homestead garden.

The shortest bamboo poles were the first to be loaded on to the truck . The larger poles would have to be loaded corner to corner and they barely fit. One pole in particular had to be repositioned multiple times before the trucks back gate could be lowered. A student approached to ask Stella a question since she is a teaching a drawing class. A professor also approached to ask a question.  Stella seemed quite at home in the university setting. Stella has so many opportunities in the hopper as the Masters Program winds down for her. Only time will tell which way her path might turn. Of one thing I am sure, she will get her masters which was well earned.

Stella Levels Up

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Stella Arbelaez Tascón presented her thesis defense at the UCF Art Gallery (12400 Aquarius Agora Dr, Orlando, Fl.)

Having heard her rehearse for the presentation, several times, I was familiar with many of the threads that inspire her work, so I sat a bit distant from the crowd and sketched.

The sculpture by Stella in the foreground of this sketch is called The Broken Woman. She had a  mannequin which she busted open with a sledge hammer. The distressed surface is covered in gold and hot pink. A sacred heart is in the open chest cavity representing sacrifice. Golden beams radiate from the heart. The crotch is busted open and dollar bills rest chaotically, illuminated from inside, representing the commodification of woman. The broken cage where the head would be is also broken open while a cell phone played static until it shorted out and died.

Stella expressed the idea of a work’s aura, of bringing the presence of it into your life. Her work is about healing. When asked if the healing is for her or others, she pointed out that she hopes to connect to others, but as she is not one of them, she can not know what a person viewing her work might feel. She wants to be honest about what she feels. She hopes the work will be healing to others.

The Cathedral, was set up on the lawn outside the gallery. It is comprised of over 20 foot high bamboo stalks arranged in a circle outside the gallery. In The Cathedral the visitor is greeted by the sounds of chirping birds when they enter into the circle, which would usually  be silent in the evening. The feeling is of being engulfed by nature. Several people I overheard at the opening, expressed a sense of peace. The person is meant to feel elevated as if transported elsewhere. One thought to make the piece more permanent, was to recreate the cathedral with live bamboo, but Stella is also considering the option of recreating it in bronze. The Cathedral reminded me of the bird cage which was broken open above The Broken Woman.

Some work in the exhibition was small in size like intimate etchings of Memories of a Dead Love. Whereas The Cathedral was monumental in size. She feels that her work is moving from the micro to the macro. The larger work can be seen and experienced by more people. Each piece dictated its size. She wanted to experience the labor of chopping down the bamboo with a machete, it is physical sweet labor. Much of the bamboo was already collapsed in her yard, after hurricane Milton. When discussing the materials she used, she said, “This is me, I am the cell phone, I am that bamboo. The choice of materials is important to each piece.” The perfect home for The Cathedral would be as a permanent installation in a garden. She also feels a good location would be in a large city where it could have a large outreach.

In 2020, Stella walked the whole length of the Florida Scenic Trail which is over 1,100 miles, and it was a reset for her after the trauma of divorce. Her work reflects her journey of healing and growth. Soon after walking the trail, she created a persona called The Nature Goddess. She wears a black gown, has horns and a found animal skull on her staff.  She performed in a park lying on the ground and crying for the devastation of nature imposed by humanity.  She was asked why she does not do more performance art. She feels the action of physically moving the materials is in itself a performance. Painting is a private act of performance. These acts of performance are done as the work is created. She does imagine more performance art in her future.

Her work has begun to act as an advocate for the preservation of nature. The job of stopping humanities destruction of nature is too large for one person, so she has become a part of a movement. She wants to help make people aware so they can heal themselves and the earth they are a part of.

Stella is a semi finalist for the 2025-2026 Fulbright Grant and hopes to return to Colombia to research the role that technology and media play in an indigenous community there. She wants to share her knowledge of 2D animation and sees herself as a tool. She is part indigenous herself and wants to contribute to the empowerment and dissemination of their voices, while they author their own stories.

The work shown is just the beginning of her artistic journey. The work will continue to evolve. Three years ago she had no idea she would be producing the monumental work that is on exhibit today. She is excited to see what is yet to come. The art is intending to spark peoples empathy. Even a one degree shift towards empathy can make a difference in a world intent on division. Her work lets the viewer know that there is a way out, and there is hope. Anyone can overcome feelings of entrapment. When she moves her studio back to her house, the work might scale down, but  she knows that as life happens, she will continue to grow and large scale work will take form and evolve as she does. For her, monumentality contributes to the presence of a piece.

Studio for a Day

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Stella Arbelaez had an amazing turn out of friends who came to support her Masters in Fine art gallery opening at UCF. There was a large contingent of former Florida Disney Feature Animation artists and friends she met on her hike on the Florida Trail which she hiked from Cypress National Preserve in the south up to Fort Pickins in the North. In all the trail is 1108 miles. She met New Bear at Mile marker 7 right when she began her trek. Then they met Just Jeff at about mile marker 800. Stella interviewed hikers she met all along the way and she had a full kit of art supplies to document the incredibly beauty that can be found on the trail. Each hiker is given a nick name on the trail and her nickname was acorn. The work to be seen in this gallery exhibit is evidence that the acorn is growing into a mighty live oak, spreading her branched.

The day after the opening, Stella returned to the Yalaha studio with James Parris, another former Disney Feature Animation artist and friend for 30 years, and her daughter Laura.  New Bear had a car which he had driven down from Maryland and he brought Just Jeff. Just Jeff has stayed at Stella’s house many times before and her helped build the fence around the front of her property along with a stone walkway around the back patio. The second Jeffrey arrived he started gardening around a Bougainvillea which he had saved from a pot that it had outgrown. He was afraid the plant might perish, but it was thriving in a bed of ferns. It just wasn’t flowering, and he attributed that to the wet soil.

I had virtual classes to teach for six hours on Saturday and that is when the crowd descended on the studio. Stella had planned ahead and suggested I teach from the bedroom so my students would not have to contend with the all the laughter. I taught from my bed for the day. It was actually quite comfortable. I had my egg crates full of teaching material next to me and my computers could rest on the  mountains of drawings stacked up on the flat file next to my bed. I could hear the muffled conversations and laughter, but that is sort of my everyday experience when I sketch on location. I get lost in the quiet reflection and complexities of the sketch as the world shouts for attention around me. I wanted to join the party but had to wait until class let out at 6pm. With my last student, I was teaching contour drawing methods, and she was in a coffee shop, so our last prompt was to use contour to draw the room around us. Since I was in bed, I drew my feet extended 0n the Pulse comforter. At 6 I threw on my art bag and rushed into the living room shouting, “I am ready, lets go!”

The plan was to have dinner at Stella’s brother’s home which was a short drive away in Leesburg Florida. I got to catch up with James Parris there. He had been the artist who first checked my drawings as we were working on Pocahontas. He had been a mentor to Stella at the studio.

Stella set up her power point on her brothers big screen TV and we got to experience what she would be presenting at her thesis presentation for her professors and committee members. At the beginning of her presentation she thanked those who had helped her on her journey towards getting her masters degree. Then she started talking about her family and she had to pause. There was so much love in the room with family and friends and she must have felt that. Then her presentation hit it’s full flow. I had listened as she read aloud chapters she had just written on her couch. I would offer feedback if she felt she needed it. She story is profound and moving and it is fueling some amazing art.

Soon she will be giving the presentation to the actual committee and professors whose job is to cross examine her and ask questions. Stella defended her positions magnificently with our many questions so she is quite prepared for questions from the visiting public. She has a clear path forward as she continues to create.

This is her artist statement: “I explore the relationship between Nature (viewed as a living entity) and mental health through the intersections of personal experience and societal constructs. I share my evolution while healing from emotional trauma and after having walked 1,130 miles (1,818kn) as a through-hiker of the Florida National Scenic Trail. The work aims to be of service and entice a higher level of consciousness, directed to the nurturing of the self and protection of nature. while increasing appreciation and respect for it.