The first time I went into my new studio, I saw myself working in front of the two south facing windows. Later I pictured a vaulted ceiling, with recessed lights a ceiling fan and a wood stove. The walls white, the space warm with bright lights. And it was empty, except for a table with my sewing machine on it, pristine, I didn’t even see a chair for me to sit in.
Then the work began. Like all the things I see in my mind, when they come into the physical word, they change. The cost in labor and materials of a vaulted ceiling didn’t make sense anymore. Even heating it would be more expensive. So the plan has changed. Now I’ll have a cozy low ceiling easy to heat with electric baseboard. I’ll still have my white walls and bright lights but without the mess and inconvenience of a wood stove. Now in the winter I’ll be able to go to work without having to wait an hour or two for the studio to warm up. And no wood stove gives me more space and less dust and dirt (oh how I hate to clean). I’m sure Freida will miss it more than I will, but I’ll bring her bed and she’ll adapt as she does.
Today, when I saw the work Ben did for the first time, I got a bit nervous. Once again I tried to picture myself working in front of the windows. Once again I could see my work table, but that’s as far as it got. When I thought of working I could only see myself in my old studio, surrounded by my familiar boxes of fabric, my chair, desks, sewing machine and iron, even the dust and cobwebs. This morning at the Central House with Nancy and Mandy, I told them I was born in my studio. I felt the tears come. It’s were I began becoming who I am today. It’s all I know. I know it’s ridiculous to think my work has to do with the place and I couldn’t work without it, but that’s just what I was thinking. That I won’t be me without my Studio Barn, it’s a part of my identity as an artist. It’s me an my Studio Barn.
Who knew the attachment went so deep. I guess I’ll just work on it. Picturing myself in the new studio. Watching the progress as it comes together. Being a part of the process by painting it and working on the windows (the eyes to the soul). Then moving in, making it mine. I’ll have a ceremony in the Studio Barn, blessing it and cleansing it and thanking it and saying goodbye.
And then I’ll find out what it’s like to work in my new studio and adapt as I do.
I think your studio is coming along nicely. I hope you post some pictures when it’s finished. And, I’m sure you’ll feel at home there in no time!
Your work is within you – and wherever you are it will still be there. You are adapting and changing all the time – it will just be one more element to your creativity:-)
I think you should give the new studio a name it might help to go forward. It is always hard to leave a place that you have been happy in and love.
Maria, I loved the blog you wrote today about your old Studio Barn and I found it very emotional and touching. I really could relate to all of your feelings about leaving it…why I did I have no idea…perhaps its because you painted such a vivid picture in my mind of the whole scenario and I was touched by the emotion and honesty of it.
Thanks for being you and for letting us into your life.
Thanks for sharing Maria. Not such a surprise to me to learn of your angst about the Studio Barn….retiring from my job of 24 yrs., though it was something I really wanted to do, brought similar angst. Was who I was and the work that I did, and could do, inextricably bound to the place? Thankfully I learned otherwise…as you are in the process of doing yourself. Keep on picturing…that in itself is the creative process brewing…..
You and Freida…adapting together. 🙂
Oh Maria, What a touching post. I know exactly how you were feeling. It wasn’t ridiculous and shouldn’t be minimized. That is a left over from our stolen pasts. Tears were very appropriate and will actually help you to move on. You will always love your studio barn at Bedlam. As it should be.
Cindy
Ah Cindy, Stolen Pasts, the perfect words.
Hi Maria,
Change can be so difficult, it feels so right until it happens and we don’t think we will need to adjust but it is amazing how emotional it can be. I had my own restaurant for 8 yrs. and was so exhausted I couldn’t wait to move on to the next part of my life, when we finally did sell it. I felt lost for 6 months at least you are not changing the thing you do and love merely the location.
How about a heated pad for Freida to lay on in the new studio?:)