Packing Up My Heart (and Art Supplies) for a Cross-Canada Adventure

I’m about to do something that makes me feel equal parts like a kid on the last day of school and a squirrel hoarding acorns for winter. I’m packing for a trip across Canada—and by “packing,” I mean cramming every conceivable art supply I own into my bags and hoping gravity will forgive me. Clothes? Minimal. Socks? a few mismatched ones. Sketchbooks, pens, paints, brushes, markers, and some mysterious doodads I don’t even remember buying? Absolutely essential.

It’s the same thrill I had as a kid when I’d pack all my toys for a trip, leaving my socks and underwear to fend for themselves. Only now it’s a chaotic army of pencils, pens, and paints. I may not have enough shirts, but I will have enough markers to cover a small country in colour.

The plan—or lack thereof—is just as messy as my packing. I don’t really have one. Not a solid itinerary, not a strict timeline. Just a general direction: westward first, the rest will follow. The prairies, Calgary, Whitehorse, and beyond—each city and town a blank page waiting to be sketched. I’m going with the flow, letting the roads, rivers, and chance encounters dictate the adventure. It’s a heart-led journey, one I can’t seem to resist. If the heart says “go,” who am I to argue?

And yes, I’m excited. Exhilarated. Nervous. My stomach is simultaneously doing somersaults and tap-dancing, like it can’t decide whether it’s thrilled or terrified. The truth is, this trip might be messy, unpredictable, and full of mistakes—and that’s exactly what makes it irresistible.

Here’s the thing: if at the end of the day, nobody cares. If nobody follows the journey online, no random strangers engage, if nobody likes the art, or the sketches aren’t “gallery-worthy”…that’s okay. Because all of this, every kilometre, every sketch, every unplanned detour across the vast landscapes of Canada, will still exist. It will be my story. My sketchbook. My adventure.

If nothing else comes of this trip except a heart full of memories, and a stack of pages covered in ink, watercolour, and wild enthusiasm, then it has already succeeded. There’s no way it can go wrong.

So here I am, art supplies in hand, socks and underwear barely packed, ready to chase the heart of Canada one sketch, one laugh, one serendipitous encounter at a time. And maybe, just maybe, along the way, someone else will catch a glimpse of the adventure and join me—even if it’s just in spirit.

Because sometimes, the best trips aren’t about the plan, the audience, or the perfect art. They’re about letting your heart lead, throwing your bags into the back of a car, and seeing where the road takes you.