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Clutching my Paintbrushes - The Transition from Creating at Home to an Open Studio

Every artist has their own journey within their creative life. On the surface the travel may seem similar, but each of our experiences vary greatly on how they impact our growth as a human. I consider us some of the most courageous people on the planet, continually challenging ourselves and exposing our inner most vulnerabilities, in order to elevate our Souls and our Art. 
As this year was coming to closure, I felt compelled for change. For years I had been creating on a daily basis inside the security of my own home, even during times when my home itself wasn't secure. I had created my own artful world where my every moment would walk me through this world I created. Sacred spaces of art supplies in bounty, my tools for expression and understanding, grown so large they replaced my decor. Sleepless, painful nights could be soothed by walking a few steps to an easel. And while it has been healing and soothing and full of embrace, at the same time it has only allowed me to extend so far. 

Every so often we need to step back and and listen to our work. Over the past few months, maybe the past few years, Wings have appeared in more and more of my pieces. First on animals, and then on women. Flight and Freedom have been sneaking in more and more, sometimes subtle and sometimes blatantly. 

In this realization, the sudden urge to shake things up started pulsing through my veins....I needed to find an open working studio...I needed to take myself out of my comfort zone...I needed to challenge myself...I needed to become more accessible...I needed to share my process...I needed to elevate myself as an artist. 
The decision was quick and with surety. This was my next step. While I knew it would not necessarily be easy, I knew it had to be done. After years of my art being supportive of Me, it was time for me to support it.

There is a large amount of artists where I live, but not enough venues to support them. Even so, I was able to find a studio within a month, and then spent every waking moment moving all of my art and supplies in. 

That two weeks of exhausting flurry produced a studio that looks as if it existed for 10 years. 

And now what? 
I need to go work. 

It was disconcerting and uncomfortable. What the hell have I done? Everything that means something to me...everything I know, is in that space......all the way over there ! Fear crept in....what will happen when my pain wakes me up at 2am and I can't crawl to my easel and release? What on Earth will I do with myself without a jar of paintbrushes at my side? The first few days when I should have truly begun creating in the studio, had become filled with anxiety and OCD stepping in and distracting me. 

I was disconnected and afraid. Had I lost my Muse? Where was my ever ending flow of inspiration? 
But as quickly as that fear had grabbed a hold of me, almost as quickly an angel of comfort stepped in. By the third morning as I sat on the edge of my bed, my back and joints hurting, and concerns about the status of my Lupus and other health issues swirled in my head.....a "wash" poured over me. It was as if someone had turned on the faucet and here came my Muse. My endless flowing of ideas and inspiration returned, like a magic pill of comfort.  My spirit calmed knowing that everything would work out - I would find my rhythm - I would make my schedule - and I would Create. 



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