Like Plaidurday, a “worldwide” celebration—founded by Sailor—of the U.P.’s (unofficial) pattern with suggested activities like wearing plaid, making plaid cookies, and donating plaid clothing to shelters.

Or 906 Day, another Bugsy Sailor original, which encourages Yoopers to celebrate their area code by sharing photos with the hashtag #906Day annually on September 6.

Or the dating site Yooper Singles.

Or about a dozen others.

“I don’t like sitting on ideas,” he says. “We all have little ideas that surface. Hopefully, people see my work and think, ‘Oh, I should start that little quirky idea I had.”

“Pysanky eggs always caught my imagination with their mystery and magic,” she says. “When I’m at art fairs and children see the eggs, you see that wonder. I love seeing my work through their eyes.”

Rogocki grew up in England. Her father immigrated from Poland before she was born, and Rogocki saw pysanky on the Easter postcards sent from their family there.

She attended art college and received her Master’s, specializing in installation work, mixed media, and site-specific pieces. (Some of this work even incorporated eggshells.) But it was her own immigration journey that led her back to pysanky.

“It wasn’t until I came to the U.S., where the Ukrainian and Polish immigrants had established their cultures and communities here, that made it accessible,” she says. “[Growing up,] we didn’t really celebrate that heritage. I wanted to raise my children with those connections.”

Now 25 years into her pysanky practice, Rogocki is a recognized expert. She displays breathtaking pysanky at art fairs and cultural festivals and offers workshops for delighted newcomers, with or without Polish heritage.

Like her mentor, Rogocki creates original designs alongside traditional ones, drawing on imagery from Poland’s pre-Christian roots. Finding a balance between innovation and tradition comes down to intention: “My intent is to make an object that does have some talismanic power to it, that does have layers of meaning and isn’t purely a decorative object,” she says.

Eggs can be a challenging and beautiful medium. “The egg is already carrying a meaning in itself—a rebirth, the cycle of life—before you even start putting your own meanings and interpretations onto it,” says Rogocki. “I think it’s the tension of the fragility and the power of that symbol that makes it so interesting to me.”

Ashley Annett is the community coordinator with the Kingfield Neighborhood Association, which puts on the event each year. She sets the scene during ‘Soup-er Bowl Sunday’ this winter: 

“You come in, you’re greeted by a volunteer or two, you go downstairs, you pick out your artist-made bowl,” Annett says.  

Those bowls are all made and donated by local potters or locals who want to try their hand at it. The neighborhood organization even hosts painting parties for folks to glaze them before sending off the bowls—which numbered nearly 800 this year—to get fired at local studios.

At their fundraising event, folks can donate (the suggested amount ranges from $25 to $40) to local organizations before filling up their bowls. Annett says around $18,000 was funneled right back to the community, through these donations and non-bowl ceramic raffle tickets.  

Galesburg boasts historic venues like its symphony, civic theatre, and performing arts theatre. Jazz music often rings out; poetry keeps pens moving; folks come out to see new visual art works. 

“The arts thrive here in our area,” Çetin says. “It is something that’s deeply invested in by individuals and community members. And I think for a smaller Rust Belt community, it’s the fabric that has kept a very consistent economy going.” 

Across Iowa and far west into South Dakota is Spearfish, South Dakota—a fellow art-loving city less than half the population size of Galesburg. 

Award-winning artist Anna Robins is a filmmaker, composer, and arts advocate in Spearfish. She nods to Spearfish’s enormous arts and music festival each year, a robust music scene, ‘Termesphere’ artist, and opera house.  

“With a lot of small towns around us, the interesting thing about this area is there’s so much crossover between town,” Robins says, noting the “crossover” extends to cultures, landscapes, and people. 

“Spearfish has a vibrant art scene because there’s all these other small towns around us that come here to gather and to express and to display.” 

“My work always reflected that type of sensibility. We care about each other, we want to interact with each other in a positive way, because everyone deserves respect,” Sferlazza says. “I thought, ‘How can I do a show about mindfulness so that a child can understand this?’”

During the past school year, with funding from the Michigan Arts and Culture Council, Sferlazza brought his mindfulness-focused “A Culture of Kindness” program to 3,000 students at 15 schools across Michigan. 

April Woodruff, the director of early childhood services for a rural school district in Corunna, Michigan, says the residency helped bolster her district’s existing social emotional learning (or SEL) initiatives. She says teachers are still using the chimes Sferlazza left with them to signal the start of classroom transition time.

“We know, based on lots of research, that kids aren’t ready to learn if their bodies aren’t calm and regulated,” Woodruff explains. “Social emotional learning is so important because it gets kids ready for school.”

For the reader with snow-loving kids

Mike of Literati Bookstore in Ann Arbor, Michigan, recommends A Snow Day for Amos McGee (2010) by local author and artist duo, Phil and Erin Stead.

“This book is quiet, sweet, filled with beautiful illustrations, and everything you want in a bedtime book in winter. And if your kids love this one, there are two other Amos books awaiting as well.” | Buy the Book

For the reader going through change

Ella from Milkweed Editions in Minneapolis, Minnesota, recommends Where Will We Live if the House Burns Down (2024) by Allison Blevins.

“With tender, experimental prose poems, [this book] examines a life in the throes of unexpected change, from chronic illness and cancer to a spouse’s gender transition. A fairytale-like narrative takes form as the speaker leads us through these crises with grace, resilience, and a wild imagination.” | Buy the Book

For the reader who’d rather be chasing Bigfoot  

Co-owner Amanda of Dog-Eared Books in Ames, Iowa, recommends American Mythology (2025) by Chicago-based author Giano Cromley. 

“[It] is the story of Jute and Vergil — two men, past middle age, who’ve maintained a friendship since childhood thanks in large part to their monthly Bigfoot Society meetings and annual expeditions into rugged western Montana in search of Sasquatch. But this year’s trip is going to change their lives in ways they could never have expected. This novel is a deeply heartfelt novel about friendship, small towns, and wonder in the face of the unknown.” | Buy the Book

For the reader who enjoys a Midwest mystery

Sarah from Loganberry Books in Shaker Heights, Ohio, recommends Ohio (2018) by Stephen Markley.

“It takes place in Ohio, obviously—from the title—in a small town where five or six people come, for different reasons, during a 24-hour period.  It’s dark, and a heartbreaking read.” | Buy the Book

For the reader who wants to build community

Tiffany of Wild Geese Bookshop in Franklin, Indiana, recommends Start with Hello (And Other Simple Ways to Live As Neighbors) (2022) by Shannan Martin.

“In divisive times, Shannan reminds us of the importance in loving people up close and shares moments from her life that have helped her find a way forward.” | Buy the Book

For the reader who seeks out queer Midwestern histories 

Iris of A Room of One’s Own Bookstore in Madison, Wisconsin, recommends As Ever, Miriam (2024) by Faythe Levine. 

“Ephemera from the Wisconsin Historical Society archives of two women, Miriam Frink and Charlotte Partridge, opening The Layton School of Art (MKE). Engaged in a ‘Boston Marriage’, the book collects photos, a timeline of their life together, and the sign-offs of letters sent over 50 years. Set within the better part of the 20th century, this book is a wonderful piece of queer Wisconsin history.” | Buy the Book

For the reader who dives deep into Great Lakes disasters

Katie from Between the Covers Bookstore in Harbor Springs, Michigan, recommends The Gales of November: The Untold Story of the Edmund Fitzgerald (2025) by John U. Bacon.

“Just in time for the 50th anniversary of the SS Edmund Fitzgerald tragedy, John U. Bacon brings Great Lakes’ maritime history to life. Bacon’s style is adept at capturing both the majesty and peril of stormy waters. His detailed storytelling honors the sailors who braved impossible odds, blending history and human drama seamlessly. Reading this book feels like an adventure and a eulogy all at once.” | Buy the Book

For the reader who’s rooting for rekindled sparks

Haley from Gramercy Books in Bexely, Ohio, recommends Just Another Love Song (2022) by Kerry Winfrey.

“This book is the perfect fun, small town romance where second chance love is in the air. Sandy and Hank were high school sweethearts until Hank went to Boston to follow his dreams of being a musician and Sandy stayed back home in Ohio (where the author is from). If you like the vibes of the show Gilmore Girls, then pick this book up! Wonderful read for all the romantics!”  | Buy the Book

For the reader who devours young adult thrillers  

Jordan from Lion’s Mouth Bookstore in Green Bay, Wisconsin, recommends Six of Sorrow (2024) by Amanda Linsmeier.  

“Six girls, one legend-filled small town in Georgia, and a mystery that will keep readers on the edge of their seat for this entire unputdownable read. This makes [it] a perfectly creepy, sapphic young adult horror read for fans of Pretty Little Liars and Yellowjackets.” | Buy the Book

For the reader who loves a larger-than-life legend  

Owner Molly of Lake City Books in Madison, Wisconsin, recommends Life, and Death, and Giants (2025) by Wisconsin trout fisherman, gardener, and writer Ron Rindo.  

“It’s a gorgeous Wisconsin-centric story that follows the life of an extraordinary Amish boy and the impact he had on his family, his town, and the world. Skillfully crafted, soulful, humbling, and life-affirming.” | Buy the Book

For the reader who loves haunting short stories

Co-owner Sterling from Silver Dawn Books in Grand Forks, North Dakota, recommends Our Greatest Enemy: Five Horror Stories on Fatherhood (2024) by Jordan Thiery. 

“I would highly recommend it for horror fans but also warn people it will give you a gut punch emotionally.” | Buy the Book

For the reader who lives for drama and messy moments  

Jamie of Women & Children First bookstore in Chicago, Illinois, recommends Same As It Ever Was (2024) by Claire Lombardo. 

“Claire Lombardo’s ability to write about motherhood, aging, and long-term marriage despite not experiencing any of those things is astonishing. Her new novel is populated with messy moments between friends, unreliable and flippantly cruel mothers, neighbors who become anchors (who can also inadvertently lead to drowning), and a main character who is hard to get to know by design but ultimately becomes someone you’ll love despite all of her attempts to keep you at a distance.” | Buy the Book

With no shortage of places for artists to crash for a night (or 14), these two spots meld residency with transitory places.

The Parlor Hotel in Princeton, Wisconsin, asks artists to “take over the hotel” with performances and public engagement in the hotel’s lobby. The shows are intimate and often dimly lit. 

Over in Michigan is the Detroit Exchange Artist Residency at Hostel Detroit. New this year, folks can visit the gallery by staying at the hostel (or booking an appointment). Last summer’s artist-in-residence was Detroit’s Danya Ensing, who engages in film photography and printmaking.

Some of the art ends up in nearby exhibits, Elmer says, but it’s not about the end product.

“There’s so many nuanced lessons that they learn about being inventive and adaptive,” Elmer says. “[Repurposed art] frees [artists] from the constraints of having to have enough money to buy a big canvas or the best paint or whatever.”

She sees that scrappiness across Detroit and has for years.

“Recycled and repurposed art . . . existed in Detroit for a long time, alongside fairly high rates of poverty in the city, and people who maybe don’t have an expectation that they’re ever going to spend time in a museum or an art gallery. So it’s sort of egalitarian,” Elmer says.

“It’s available for everyone.”