The Irish Hills in south central Michigan continue to be an ongoing project – one of the places I return to, time and time again, to capture an area that I love.
Except it’s been nine years since I was out this way. Much has changed.
I brought along the Canon 5D Mark II and both the EF 40mm and 50mm lenses, and started with the little lakes that run along US-12.
As luck would have it, the fog rolled in on this cool September morning and made for some good imagery down these long country dirt roads.
Further East on US-12, I stopped to revisit the amusement parks and classic Irish Hills roadside stops that I’ve spent years photographing.
Sadly, many of my old haunts were either torn down or converted into unrelated businesses (Prehistoric Forest, for instance, is now a golf cart rental shop). A lot can change over nine years.
To me, seeing all these classic Irish Hills stops being torn down or transformed means it’s more important than ever to photograph them before they’re gone.
Just a little further down US-12, I stopped by a few more lakes – Sand Lake and Evans Lake – because they still had a little bit of fog, and the light was just right.
The bright reds, especially, stuck out from the background of blue and green on these lakes.
Before the light disappeared, I headed back to my hometown of Brooklyn, Michigan, and stopped at a marina for some more boat shots before the fog burned off completely.
I grew up in this area. It’s always nice to revisit these familiar scenes when the morning light is just right. Photographing a place you love shows a special kind of respect.
Part of these morning trips involves simply driving around, exploring, and seeing what scenes catch my eye. Dead ends are never a bad thing – it’s all about the adventure.
So when leaving Brooklyn, I stopped at a few final places to look at them with a photographic eye.
It’s home, reimagined.
Shot on the Canon 5D Mark II with the EF 50mm f/1.4 and 40mm f/2.8.
Our Methodist church hosts a summer family camp in Pentwater, Michigan, each August. My wife was a regular attendee growing up, but we – as a family – had never gone except for a brief visit a few years back.
This year, we decided to join our church and make it part of our summer getaway schedule.
Pentwater, Michigan, is one of those classic west coast Lake Michigan towns: small and exceedingly beautiful, catering to weekenders from Chicago, Grand Rapids, and Detroit.
That’s the village part. The Lake Michigan sand dune forest part? That’s what we came to experience.
On one side of the sand dunes, you have pristine Lake Michigan sand and water – complete with a wildfire haze sunset.
On the other side, it’s dirt and bugs and camp sites. No technology, very little cell service, and the perfect setting for our kids to explore, make friends, and get messy.
The sad part was that I had to leave my family after the first few days for a business trip to Brooklyn, New York. For both trips, I brought along my new Canon EOS M2 to test out.
The challenge in Pentwater: keep the sand out.
All images shot on the Canon EOS M2 and 22mm lens.
Just a few years ago, Jen Dixon couldn’t brush their teeth, let alone imagine being surrounded by community and creativity.
“I was agoraphobic for five years,” they explain. “Didn’t meet people. I was training for COVID before COVID.”
The isolation was deepened by chronic illness, pain, and years of battling to be seen—not just as a person living with disabilities, but also as a nonbinary creative with a past shaped by trauma and tenacity.
Today, Jen stands surrounded by microscopes, T-shirts, illuminated signs, handmade cellular art, and a growing circle of collaborators who genuinely believe in them.
“Right now, I think the real art is learning to trust myself again,” they say.
A Scientific Soul in a Maker’s World
Jen’s path hasn’t followed any straight lines. They first studied computer programming while working full-time and caring for a terminally ill fiancé.
But after a near-death experience caused by a massive blood clot following a roller derby injury, they re-evaluated everything.
“I remember crawling across the floor thinking, ‘This is your last moment. Experience it,’” Jen recalls. “And after surviving that, cubicles just weren’t going to cut it.”
What followed was a dive into botany, volunteering at Iowa State’s herbarium, and eventually entering a PhD program.
Their love of science came with an endless hunger to understand.
“One of my professors said I was an artist with the soul of a scientist,” they say. “That felt true.”
Jen’s artistic practice came to life while teaching plant systematics in Iowa.
When a visually impaired student entered their classroom, Jen faced a challenge: how to share the microscopic beauty of cellular structures with someone who couldn’t see them?
That night, they created a clay version of a microscope slide and transformed invisible wonders into tactile art. If the student couldn’t see the cell, then they would be able to feel it.
“I don’t know how well it worked for her,” they say, “but for me, it unlocked something. It made me think: what if everyone could feel this beauty?”
Creating with Curiosity, Sharing with Empathy
From there, Jen’s art grew out of curiosity and constraint. While bedridden, they began sketching detailed cellular forms in Procreate, finding comfort in radial symmetry and microscopic inspiration.
Eventually, they started laser-engraving these intricate images into wood and velvet.
“I just wanted to see if it would work,” they say. “It was all experimentation.”
Jen’s art now includes protest T-shirts, building signage, velvet-burned botanical forms, and tactile pieces made of wood and reused materials.
“It all came from wanting people to experience wonder—even if they can’t see it the traditional way,” Jen explains. “There’s got to be a way to share that.”
Today, Jen’s studio is a living lab—a DIY playground of soldered lights, etched acrylic, scavenged pipe supports, and refurbished microscopes.
“Everything is a version one,” they laugh. “The next version will be better, but I have to start somewhere.”
Building a Community That Builds You Back
Jen is now helping to build a community at The Sparks (formerly the Commercial Exchange), where collaboration drives creativity and progress.
From teaching others how to build and reusing materials to organizing artist showcases, they’ve found their voice again.
“I used to think I didn’t have any value unless I met society’s expectations,” they say. “Now I just try stuff. And it’s working. All these different paths in my life, they have all culminated into skills and work that’s relevant and useful.”
Even through lingering self-doubt and social anxiety, Jen persists – out into the sun and into an artistic team.
“I’m deciding how I engage with the world now,” they said. “I see the potential for the future, even if it’s scary. I catch the future out of the corner of my eye. And I’m scared to look right at it because it may disappear.”
Here in Brooklyn, Michigan, where I grew up, you can’t spit without hitting a lake.
Clark Lake is the popular one, especially at the members-only Consumers Energy Boat Club. A few friends invited us to spend a warm summer Sunday by the beach with them.
Inside the welcoming walls of 21 Blooms Tattoo Studio, Dylan Sodt (he/they) is quietly reshaping how people see themselves, one piercing at a time.
Dylan is a piercer, but that barely scratches the surface. For them, piercing is not just a form of body modification. It’s a practice of empowerment, trust, and transformation.
“I can build a little home with people in 30 minutes,” they say. “It creates a ritual environment. It’s an energetic exchange. They’re trusting me—and that’s when I think I have the best job.”
Born and raised in Jackson, Dylan’s path to piercing was anything but linear. He started by sketching the human figure as a kid and later found creative expression as a drummer in local bands. For much of his adult life, Dylan worked in restaurants, eventually managing the bar and kitchen at Sandhill Crane Vineyards. But even while building menus and leading teams, a deeper pull was growing.
“I hit a point where I needed something new,” he recalls.
Just two days after leaving the vineyards, he began a piercing apprenticeship.
“Piercing found me,” Dylan says.
Precision Meets Purpose
That leap of faith led them into a world where artistic intuition and technical precision are inseparable. Their practice is steeped in anatomy, geometry, and material science.
“It’s engineering on a smaller scale,” Dylan says.
Before he started working with Lauren Maureen of Emerald Sun Studios, Dylan had to start at the beginning: an apprenticeship.
Apprenticeship is the cornerstone of ethical piercing, and Dylan’s journey was a slow and deliberate one.
“You don’t even touch a needle for months. You learn the biology of wound healing, jewelry angles, and sterilization.”
But even more than technique, piercing is about people. Dylan specializes in body reclamation: helping those who have experienced trauma, abuse, or body dysmorphia reconnect with themselves.
“I want clients to feel more empowered when they leave here,” they say. “I’ve had clients squeal when they see themselves in the mirror. That sound? It means everything.”
Their work is artistic and deeply personal. Dylan observes each client closely: how they dress, carry themselves, the undertones of their skin, hair, and eye color.
“I have 30 minutes to clock your style,” he says. “It’s like painting on someone else’s canvas. Then it walks out the door and lives a whole life.”
From simple lobe studs to advanced curated ear setups, every piece is placed with aesthetic intention and precision measured in millimeters.
“We have to create the illusion of symmetry. If it’s off, people will feel it. Others will notice.”
Confidence, Care, and Ritual
Empowerment doesn’t come without responsibility. Dylan sees self-confidence as a professional obligation.
“You need a god complex to do this work—not arrogance, but self-respect,” they say. “You have to put clients at ease. There’s no room for shaky hands.”
They draw on Buddhist practices like breathwork and meditation to stay grounded and present, offering their clients not only a piercing, but also a moment of calm and clarity.
Outside the studio, Dylan finds creative joy in cooking—“an art form that doesn’t belong to me,” they say. “It’s all colors and flavors, and then it’s gone in 15 minutes.”
They surround themself with earth tones, thrifted treasures, and houseplants, always seeking to breathe new life into the old. That ethos flows directly into their work.
“What I do gives people a new image of themselves,” they say.
Community and Collaboration at 21 Blooms
At 21 Blooms, Dylan has found a creative home. The studio, owned by Emily Radke and envisioned as a hub for full-time piercers, is more than a workplace.
It’s a collaborative sanctuary.
“We push each other here,” Dylan says. “We talk through designs, hold critique nights. There’s a vulnerability in that, but it makes us all better.”
For them, the studio is also a commitment to raising the standard in Jackson.
“This city deserves a proper piercing space. If you get pierced by me, I consider you a client forever. I’m an island of proper piercing.”
Looking ahead, Dylan is pursuing certification with the Association of Professional Piercers (APP), a national standard of excellence in the field.
“There’s no ceiling in this work. You can always get better,” they say.
From the restaurant floor to the piercing chair, and no matter their tools, Dylan has always been in the business of care.
“I’m in service of an idea,” they say. “That people can see themselves differently. That they can walk out of here and feel like they belong to themselves again.”
We managed to get away for our 10-year wedding anniversary.
It was chilly for the last weekend in May, but we returned to two of our favorite spots near the Lake Michigan coast: Virtue Cider in Fennville, Michigan, and The Kirby Hotel in Douglas, Michigan.
Virtue Cider
Virtue was one of my early “holy crap” ciders, where I took a chance on a six-pack of cans and was blown away.
Now we come back to taste the new ciders, grab a snack, and head outside for some acoustic guitar.
Kirby Hotel
We came to the Kirby on the coldest day of 2022, after the wassail celebration at Virtue Cider was cancelled because of the weather.
It was fine by us, because that winter, we had the place almost to ourselves and we got to chat with the chef and operator about their historic hotel.
This time, the house was packed for dinner, and we had several guests in the hotel. But the next morning, for breakfast? Just us and the chef again.
I love finding little places like this, where you become a regular and get to know the staff.
Shot on the Canon M6 and EF-M 22mm and 32mm lenses.
Tucked in a cozy corner of Art 634 in Jackson, Michigan, Jason Heinrich’s Yesterdream Studio isn’t just a storefront. It’s a portal to comfort, creativity, and memory.
Admittedly, the space defies easy classification.
“It’s not really a furniture store, not really a record store, not really a gift shop,” Jason says with a laugh. “But it’s also all of those things.”
Growing up in a Downriver factory town in the 1980s, Jason was surrounded by the aesthetic leftovers of previous decades: glass lamps, mid-century furniture, the sound of rock and roll.
“Especially in finished basements and cottages, there was always that old stuff from the ’60s and ’70s. It was everywhere,” he says. “That became my comfort. I didn’t know it then, but I’ve always been chasing that feeling.”
At Yesterdream Studio, that sense of comfort is Jason’s goal. Everything in the space invites visitors to slow down, remember, and then use the items in the shop to make their own space comfortable.
“Transforming your space can transform your mental health,” Jason says. “If you’re surrounded by things that bring you comfort, it affects your mood. That’s a big part of why I do this.”
Finding His Way to Jackson
Jason’s journey here hasn’t followed a straight line. After starting out in fine arts, he spent several years as a laborer in the plumbing trades, his family’s profession stretching back generations. Later, he earned a certificate in graphic design and worked in marketing roles for various Michigan associations. That work included working as a graphic designer and social media manager for marketing departments
But every time he stepped away from art, something pulled him back.
“I’ve tried to reinvent myself so many times,” he says. “But creativity always finds its way back in. I don’t go looking for creative work. It just kind of finds me.”
He opened Yesterdream Studio in 2023 at Art 634, after years of collecting, designing, and repurposing, while continuing to work on freelance graphic design and marketing projects.
Jason says his work revolves around sustainability.
“One of the biggest parts of this place is to reimagine, repurpose, and reuse,” Jason says. “There’s no reason to buy brand-new when you can take something old, paint it funky colors, and give it new life. And it’s better for the environment.”
His love for natural patinas and vintage design finds its way into the usefulness and beauty of everyday objects. For an example, Jason points to a large metal tackle box on his shelf.
“People throw stuff away because they don’t see the value. But to me, this tackle box is beautifully designed. It could be anything—a painter’s box, a face painter’s kit, whatever,” he says. “That’s what I love about it.”
Everything Old Is New
Jason’s love of vintage also extends to running a local steampunk convention.
His journey from Renaissance fairs to Steampunk festivals began in the early 2000s. After discovering Steampunk in 2011, he launched monthly events and co-created the Gears, Beards, & Beers competition. Partnering with DJ Van Helsteam, they later hosted the Monster Hunter Bash.
When Michigan’s Steampunk scene slowed during the pandemic, Jason found new inspiration at Art 634. In 2023, he launched Steampunk on the Bricks, a one-day festival that blends workshops, live performances, and integrated vendor experiences. Now in its second year, the event draws hundreds from across the Midwest thanks to support from Art 634, Experience Jackson, and Manchester Underground.
AN Antidote to Intensity
Jason is productive, often jumping from project to project—painting, cooking, woodworking—and he rarely sits still for too long.
“It’s kind of like checking things off a list,” he says. “One minute, I’m carving a walking stick, and the next, I’m painting a side table. It’s all over the place, but it works for me.”
Above all, Jason wants Yesterdream Studio to provide an antidote to the intensity of modern life.
“The world’s gotten meaner,” he says. “People are stressed out, trying to survive. We’ve lost compassion and grace. I wanted to build a space that reminds people to slow down, to breathe.”
His space also invites other artists, including his colleagues from Art 634, to collaborate and network, which helps create a productive, inspiring space for Jason to dabble and create.
“I just want to be around authenticity,” he says. “No personas, no fakeness. Just real people being real. That’s what this space is about.”
In my latest YouTube video, I test out several film-like Canon Picture Styles to see which of them can give Canon photographers that Fujifilm-like simulation experience.
Preslav Rachev left a comment asking for feedback on a Picture Style he recently developed, Cinematic Color Negative, and offered it up for a free trial.
Last weekend, I loaded up Preslav’s filmic emulation onto my Canon M6 and shot for an artist friend of mine at his Steampunk on the Bricks event here in Jackson, Michigan.
Overall? It’s good. I like the colors and contrast – it fits my style of shooting nicely.
The reds pop, and the greens are muted. That’s just what I’m looking for in my Canon film simulations. And in good lighting, skin tones are natural.
However, testing it out on our new baby niece, and in mixed lighting, the skin tones were a bit overpowering:
Everyone else’s skin tones looked okay, but poor Baby Iris. She got the neon orange treatment. It could be a combination of jaundice and a reddish skin hue.
The baby is an outlier. For the most part, Preslav’s Cinematic Color Negative Picture Style worked well over a weekend of shooting.
A few more RAW vs JPG shots for comparison (RAW is on the left):
My eye notes the subtle desaturation of the greens and blues. The top comparison makes that clear with the plants and the blue sky.
The bottom comparison is a little more subtle: contrast is up, and the house appears whiter in the JPG. Again, the sky in the back loses a bit of blue. Whites are whiter, blacks are blacker – both help increase the contrast.
Head to Gumroad, throw Preslav a buck or two, and try out Cinematic Color Negative yourself (and check out his photography too).
Here on Wildwood Ave and Edward St, behind the public high school, you can sense the age in the size of the homes and their proximity to downtown Jackson.
It’s quiet. A little under construction. And here on a sunny day in early May, there’s plenty to see.
It’s tough for me to make photos in cloudy conditions. I rely on sharp, dramatic sunlight for much of my work.
But here, on the northwest side of Jackson, Michigan, I gave it a good go around the Hibbard and Hallett Street neighborhood.
Instead of capturing light, I did my best to capture interesting settings, objects, or colors. If nothing else, it’s good for me to exercise the non-contrasty photography muscles.
Creativity and transformation define Logan Swoffer’s artistic journey.
As both a musician and printmaker, his artistic evolution is deeply tied to his lived experiences that were shaped by hardship, discovery, and ultimately, a second chance at life.
His near-death experience in 2023 profoundly changed his perspective, instilling a newfound appreciation for beauty and a drive to create.
Finding His Path
Logan was born in Jackson, Michigan, but his journey took an early turn when he moved to Arizona with his mother and stepfather in the fifth grade.
Settling in Deer Creek near Flagstaff, he discovered his passion for music at 14, picking up the guitar and finding that creativity “flipped on like a light switch.” He also dabbled in graffiti and doodling, though his artistic pursuits remained mostly informal at the time.
In 2005, after high school, Logan began traveling back and forth between Arizona and Michigan. Eventually, he and his mother left Arizona for good, escaping a difficult situation with his stepfather. He reconnected with his biological father, a poet and printmaker, and the more time they spent together, the more Logan saw their similarities.
“He was a scoundrel, so I come by that naturally,” he jokes.
His father’s work in printmaking would later become a major influence on Logan’s artistic career.
During this period, Logan became immersed in the local Jackson music scene while working various jobs, including a long stint in medical billing. Music remained a core part of his identity, but his artistic journey had yet to fully take shape.
A Life-Changing Liver Transplant
Years of heavy drinking caught up with Logan in 2023 when he fell critically ill.
At the time, he was working at Unleashed and Loving It when he began experiencing aches and fatigue. Friends and coworkers noticed his declining health, but it wasn’t until his mother intervened that he finally sought medical help.
Doctors diagnosed him with hepatic encephalopathy, a life-threatening condition caused by liver failure. Days away from death, Logan was rushed to Detroit for a liver transplant in May 2023.
Reflecting on this experience, he describes it as a complete transformation.
”I didn’t do a 180; I vanished and came back a different person,” Logan says. “One week you’re going to die, then you go to sleep and wake up a changed person. It’s a beautiful thing.”
His recovery was swift, but the experience left a profound impact on his outlook. Now immunocompromised and managing ongoing health risks, Logan embraces his “new normal” with gratitude and determination.
A New Artistic Purpose
Following his transplant, Logan found himself drawn to beauty in a way he never had before. Seeing an Instagram post about printmaking ignited a deep passion within him.
“It lit me up like a firecracker,” he says.
Though he had never considered himself a visual artist, he quickly embraced the medium, exploring printmaking, watercolor, and mixed media.
“Maybe I got a bit of my liver donor’s soul, but something changed,” Logan says. “I saw things I didn’t use to see.”
His art often blends delicate floral imagery with bold political statements, advocating for trans rights and marginalized communities.
“Print is the perfect vessel. I can put it up wherever I want. Say what I want. The pointedness is out of necessity,” he says.
While he strives to balance political messages with beauty, he acknowledges that art is a powerful tool for activism.
Sobriety and Moving Forward
Logan’s sobriety is deeply tied to his gratitude for the second chance he’s been given.
“I do it out of respect for my donor, who died and gifted me with this new lease on life,” he says.
He has since built a strong community of sober friends who support one another in their shared commitment to a healthier lifestyle. Since January 2024, Logan has been working out of Art 634, where he’s found another supportive and inspiring community.
“You could make art anywhere, but going to a creative space? I just love it here,” he says.
He hopes to contribute to Jackson’s cultural revival by expanding his reach through zines, exhibitions, and collaborative projects.
Looking ahead, Logan remains focused on growing his artistic presence.
“I could’ve gotten into archery or race cars, but I saw that printmaking video, and that’s what stuck,” he says.
Through music and printmaking, Logan channels his gratitude, using art as both a personal outlet and a means to inspire others.
To be around musicians as they make music? Try new things? Rehearse new songs?
It really is the best thing.
My wife’s band, the Harmony Gardeners, is working on original songs for their summer concert series and a new album. It was fun to grab some rehearsal photos with them in the studio.
When I worked close to an urban center – Ann Arbor and Albion, Michigan, for instance – exploring neighborhoods was a good way to get out, take a walk, and make photos of what I saw. I do it around my own neighborhood, too.
This style of photography reminds me of something William Eggleston would capture: the everyday life of an American town.
Lately, I’m making my way around local neighborhoods I don’t know well. This one, by the city’s primary high school, took me on streets I’ve never seen. I woke up early on a spring morning and took a walk to see what I could see.
Neighborhoods, with good light, are a constant source of good material. I could do this forever.
When Madison McCarver walked into 21Blooms Tattoo Studio in Jackson, portfolio in hand, she was terrified.
She was looking to leave her job in Toledo, where she had apprenticed and worked as a tattoo artist, but she wanted to be closer to home in Ann Arbor.
Taking a deep breath, she introduced herself to the 21Blooms team, laid out her work, and braced for rejection.
Instead, they simply asked, “When can you start?”
It was a moment of validation for Madison, who believes she manifested the life she wanted—one filled with good people, a welcoming environment, and creative freedom.
“This is a good environment,” she says. “Usually, I want to leave work and go home, but here, we’re hanging out in the studio until 8 p.m. because we love what we do.”
From Fine Arts to Tattooing
Art has always been Madison’s escape. As a child, she dabbled in fine arts, portraiture, and even fashion design. In school, her art teachers recognized her talent and submitted her work to competitions, boosting her confidence.
Though she once dreamed of moving to Los Angeles to study fashion, life took a different turn when she enrolled at Washtenaw Community College, where she fell in love with figurative arts and painting.
In 2020, stuck at home during the pandemic, Madison often found herself painting and drawing for 10 hours a day—until burnout set in.
Looking for a change, she took a job at a beauty spa in 2021 but quickly realized the environment wasn’t for her. When she got her first tattoo that year, something clicked. Madison realized tattoo art could become a career.
She started her tattoo apprenticeship that same year, driving from Ann Arbor to Toledo three times a week, practicing on fake skin for nearly a year before moving on to real clients. By 2022, she had graduated from her apprenticeship and officially entered the industry.
Now, three years in, she’s found her rhythm.
“This industry has its challenges, but at the end of the day, I get to draw on people,” Madison says. “Now, I couldn’t see myself doing anything else.”
Artistic Style Fusion
Madison’s art is a fusion of influences: her mother’s love of Rococo, the powerful works of Kehinde Wiley, and the delicate textures of Laura Brevner’s feminine portraits.
She leans into period fashion, the female form, and a mix of vibrant, poppy colors with classic undertones.
Music also plays a significant role in her creative process, from ‘70s funk and soul to modern pop.
“Music influences how I create art. I’m both visual and auditory,” she says. “And that’s my style: colorful, poppy, but classic.”
Teaching and Future Aspirations
Early in her tattoo career, Madison needed a way to make ends meet, so she took a job as a painting instructor at a paint-and-pour studio. Teaching helped her develop patience, communication skills, and a fresh perspective on art.
One moment that stuck with her was working with an older couple who doubted their abilities.
“I had to reassure them: ‘It doesn’t have to look like mine,’” she says.
When they later told her she was an excellent teacher, it reminded her of the impact art—and encouragement—can have on people’s lives.
Looking ahead, Madison wants to continue exploring new artistic avenues. She still paints and is learning oil techniques, dreams of a solo art show, and even dabbles in fashion and cosplay. While tattooing remains her main focus, she hopes to blend her passions in unexpected ways.
“My canvas is skin, but I still love painting,” she says. “I just have to figure out how to meld the two.”
Madison manifested art into her life. Now she can’t live without it.
“If I don’t have art, I might die,” she laughs.
Luckily, at 21Blooms, she’s found a community that supports her growth, shares clients based on specialties, and encourages creativity.
You’d think shooting monochrome with only two “colors” – black and white – would be easy. But photographers’ opinions on black and white film and presets are almost as strong and varied as their opinions on camera companies.
I took a sunny, spring evening in downtown Jackson, Michigan, to try out this black and white emulation. Maybe it was the lighting, maybe it was the simulation, but this was good stuff.
For a contrast-y film simulation, this T-Max picture profile was a good walk-around monochrome standard. If you want to shoot JPGs and not worry about editing, this film emulation is reliable and consistent.
My one suggestion with this profile is to try cranking up the ISO setting on your digital Canon to get more of a filmic grain.
But the deep blacks and good microcontrast? It’s all here.
Spring has finally – and for real – sprung here in Jackson, Michigan.
I woke up early on a Saturday morning, just as the sun was coming up, to walk around Sparks County Park (popularly known as the home of the Cascades) to hear the geese fighting in the water and watch the last of the frost melt away.
So we headed back to the hotel and just chilled. It wasn’t worth it outside.
Detroit Institute of arts
This was my jam.
The DIA is a world-class art museum, and the light was just perfect inside to get some dramatic shots inside the main hall and near the Diego Rivera mural.
After the museum, we ate at Hop Cat and watched the Detroit Qline come and go.
Heading home
A few more photos as we finish up at the hotel, have some diner-style breakfast, and head back to Jackson.
All images captured on a busted-ass Canon M6 and a variety of EF-M lenses.
