March 11, 2013
a room of one's own
In the midst of this pregnancy's first trimester when things were pretty hard I would cry to G about how I needed a studio - my own space - a room separate from the chaos of the house where it was quiet and peaceful and austerely beautiful with good natural soul lifting light and where it was just for me. Not to much to ask, right? (Note to self: stay away from Pinterest whilst experiencing a breakdown. For reals.) I lamented over not having property to build something like that or how we would never ever get around to renovating our garage into a livable space. The combination of a history with depression and the cuckoo hormones surging through me made for one bleak mix! G sweetly offered to look around downtown for a little space somewhere but I knew we didn't have the money to spend on rent for a place where I wouldn't even be able to take advantage of it much - what with our almost four year old twin boys and me pregnant with our third - how often would I realistically be able to spend time there? And to be honest, despite my BA in studio art, my history with actually making art (aside from my grad show) has been rocky at best. I was so critical about my work that I never experienced much joy. But although this pregnancy was proving to be a greater emotional challenge than I had expected the surge of creativity and the actual need to create on a regular basis was something that I hadn't really ever felt and I knew facilitating that desire would help restore balance to my life.
Just a few months ago we took on the challenge of completely switching around bedrooms, moving the boys out of their room into ours, leaving their former room for the baby, and G and I moved into our long time office, guest room, music equipment catch-all - yet, the largest of the three bedrooms. Once the horrors of going through the minutiae of junk and stuff stashed just about everywhere and after much organizing and throwing out and a fresh coat of paint, our room started to come together. And within it a space emerged so organically that I didn't notice it at first. One morning as I looked around at my new surroundings the space that I had so desperately sought was right there in front of me - next to the large window with just enough room to fit the small but sturdy old teachers desk that my dad had rescued from an elementary school years ago in my hometown and had sat in our garage for years under a mountain of miscellaneous whatever. I enlisted G to get it inside the house and immediately started to set up shop.
And even now, you probably couldn't call it the perfect retreat - after all, it's still in the house where the chaos of daily life and interruptions abound and curious little boys want to see and touch all of Mama's creations but it's really perfect for me and this stage of life I'm in. Each day I wake up and see my humble little space and smile knowing that even if I don't get the chance to sit down and create that day the joy it brings just being there is a such a gift.