Tuesday, February 1, 2011

The studio table again, and traversing oceans

Another glimpse of my painting area
(prior to the forthcoming deconstruction/reconstruction!)

The lovely author and artist Terri Windling included one of my recent studio snapshots in her "On your desk" photo series. Terri also wished me luck on my upcoming "move"--I will soon be dismantling most of my (very cold) basement studio so we can put some insulation in!

At first I was going to correct her use of the word “move”, but then I realized she is quite right. Moving everything away from or off the studio walls is going to be a tremendous undertaking—not quite as bad as moving to another studio space, but certainly comparable. (And not to mention it involving lots of moving things too). So a “move” it is!

Terri also founded the fabulous Endicott Studio, which I first encountered via website some 12 or 13 years ago. I was most excited about what I found there, and following the web visit had a very inspired few days where I found myself seriously imagining a move to a particular quaint little English Village full of artists and artisans—so obviously a place rich with inspiration, exciting collaborative opportunities, and the closest thing I had found at that time to what seemed like a mythical, magical life.

But I had already traversed one ocean since my own life began, and it wasn’t time to cross another. Instead I found myself moving to the Pacific Northwest, and there are mythical and magical realms here too, if one takes the time to step away from the beaten paths and pay attention.


But the trappings of my current Portland life do not unfortunately include such things as a lovely tumbledown stone cottage with whitewashed walls, or many miles of beautiful moors to explore beyond my backyard fence! But following my creative calling here (as an apprentice puppeteer) did lead me to my very dear husband, my beloved son, our silly dog, some good friends, and a few lovely artistic collaborative opportunities as well. And our home, while not whitewashed or too terribly tumbledown is our own little reliquary of myth and magic.