Let it snow! Time stops. Everything is quiet. The usual activities are cancelled. I can retreat into my new studio and hunker down.
I just hung up my Alaskan mukluks on the studio wall. Dating from my old Vista Volunteer days in an Eskimo village, they are forty plus years old. With caribou skin legs and seal skin soles, the trim at the top is plain denim - the everyday work boots that the village people themselves wore - not the fancy designs made for tourists. The message to myself: get to work!
O.K., I admit I'm ready for less snow and warmer weather, but I'll retreat to my studio regardless of the weather!
My art studio is almost ready! My contractor said today, "People are glad to see us and then glad to see us go." I know what he means. I have been obsessed with transforming this double garage space. Fortunately it already had heat, electricity, windows with wonderful light, and its own outside entrance door. It is connected to the house - good in cold weather - but when I close the door to the rest of the house, I will be at work in another world. It will be a relief when the dust, the mess, and the array of workmen's tools are gone.
Then I will move in my tools. I have been itching to spend more time with watercolors, which would be new for me, as well as returning to my mixed media materials of recycled junk, found objects, weird scraps of paper and memorabilia. I need to get back to my visual journal. I will have a separate table dedicated to it, so I can leave the materials out and work on it ongoingly, amidst other projects.
Unpacking my boxes of art supplies will be a joy, finding old friends and new possibilities. I am ready to be surprised. There will be shelves for my art books. A place for music. Curtains on the windows that will allow maximum light yet still provide privacy.
I knew this was the right house for us, as soon as I saw this space and instantly saw a future studio in my mind's eye.
I have been waiting for this moment since I was ten years old.
