Julia Bourdet

In 2022, I discovered a report about a woman who had climbed to the top of a giant sequoia for 738 days. She wanted to save the forest, and she succeeded. One question haunted me for days: What is the tipping point? When do you climb a tree and refuse to come down for any reason? How do you maintain the certainty that your choice and action will have an impact? Does being a woman change anything in this battle? Is physically engaging more powerful? That’s where my journey began.

I set off on a decarbonized journey, sketchbook in hand, by container ship, bike, and train, without a car or plane, to meet Americans.

I started in Rouen, my hometown, and sailed down the Seine on a barge to Le Havre. There, I boarded the cargo ship Marius for a ten-day journey out of time to New York. From there, I alternated between train and bike until I reached San Francisco, following the legendary routes of the Amtrak railway company. Once in San Francisco, I decided to continue south through Texas, Louisiana, Georgia, and Pennsylvania.

With my sketchbook, I met ecofeminist activists, intentional and agricultural communities, representatives of indigenous peoples, witches, scientists, burners, institutions, entrepreneurs, ex-prisoners, and even children. I asked about their personal tipping points or denials, their vision of the future, and what they thought needed to change. While trying to take stock of America in the age of climate change, I also confronted more intimate questions about my own desires, renunciations, and denials.

From this experience, I created a series of sketchbooks, recordings, and photos that will serve as the foundation for a graphic novel. I aim to build it as a drawn logbook that doesn’t seek ready-made answers but rather poses the right questions.

My journey began on the Seine, a familiar river whose industrial side I discovered. I sailed down it to the Atlantic aboard a barge. In Le Havre, I boarded the cargo ship Marius for ten days out of time until New York. I then joined Chicago on the Lake Shore Limited, along the Great Lakes, and then Denver aboard the iconic California Zephyr. With a young filmmaker, we faced the Rockies on bikes before crossing Colorado, Utah, and Nevada by train. In Reno, in the middle of the desert, I pivoted towards Oregon. The Coast Starlight took me to Eugene, where I discovered intentional communities and participated in a gathering of forest-protecting witches. Once in San Francisco, my encounters pushed me to continue my journey. I explored the environmental ambiguities of Burning Man and joined a road trip through California with a scientist. San Francisco’s music festivals preceded my departure for Los Angeles, where young cycling activists guided me through this immense concrete expanse. In Texas, Houston and Austin enlightened me on the political role of fossil fuels and tech across the entire territory. In Louisiana, Lafayette introduced me to Cajun culture and the French legacy before I cycled down the Mississippi through the cancer alley to New Orleans. Between Halloween and Dia de los Muertos, I lived through Donald Trump’s election, then I made my way back up the East Coast to New York, passing through Atlanta. I finished where it all began: in Philadelphia, the cradle of the United States, where I immersed myself in the country’s complex history. Back aboard the Marius, a new crew and a new rhythm gently brought me back to France.