It starts with a few holes in the ground.

Having proper space to work has always been my #1 excuse when it comes to why I am not making art full-time. Which, on the surface, is logical enough. Most people don't argue with me about that (except for my BFF Annie, who is always suggesting that one can make art anywhere, anytime). But the truth is, I have always needed a buffer between what I have felt an innate calling to do and the fact that I wasn't doing it.  And over the past three years, the buffer of excuses that was once very very long has been slowly whittled down to just one. The longest standing and most logical of them all. Space. 

After all the time we have spent together, that excuse and I, it has become more of a dear friend than an excuse. And like any dear {fake} friend, it has shielded me from uncomfortable and vulnerable growth, told me that I am a still an artist even in times when no art was made (because, no space = no art, of course), and generally kept me distracted from the truly scary stuff that shows up when its gone.

And so, at the beginning of the summer after numerous signs from the universe that it was time to start tackling that last excuse, we broke ground for the studio.  It sits about 100 yards from our house, facing the water, cut into a small stand of mountain laurel. The space is 24' x 24', with a lofted area in the front right quadrant, pole barn style + shed roof.  Just like with our house, we plan to use as much cull pile wood as possible (wood that is discounted from our beloved local building materials store Lamberths because its warped or has a bit of surface mold...usable and, again I say, discounted). Windows and doors are also coming from Lamberth's stock of mis-orders or items coming from a renovation.  We are deeply grateful to live in a small community where up-cycling like this is still an option.

With #1 excuse under the hammer, lots of other excuses are popping up in its place, like some kind of artsy version of wack-a-mole.  And each time a new excuse pops up, it's my job to observe it, thank it for its concern, and move on as quickly as possible. It doesn't take long for excuses to take root, grow nice and strong, and start to look like dear friends.