I am moving items from storage to my art studio. Slowly I fill my Nissan to the roof because it is very hot today. Unloading into the studio is much more fun because of the promise of a place to be.
roses, heliopsis add color
While none of the angles in this shed build in 1946 is any longer square, it offers a haven of authenticity. It does not publicize itself to be modern, clean, a place to accumulate status and a public following as being in the Rotary Centre for the Arts. It is simply a crazy, wonky old shed that will offer some protection from weather. The rustic windows, mismatched doors, plastic encased pink of the fibre glass in the rafters promise little. It is what I make of the place that matters.
new studio old chairs, crazy angles
I love the stone patio made of broken bits of cement from the floor of the shed. I envision vines climbing the side to soften the shape. I visualize my granddaughters making art with me in the studio. I see my loving husband, whoever he will be, sitting in the faux Celtic chairs having a coffee with me on a winter morning.
But for now, I have built it to leave it. In a day or two I will leave the house in the hands of friend who is staying there and go out into the world alone.
It is the first time since I was 38 that I have driven by myself long distances and I vascillate between panic, grief, excitement and exhaustion. Sleep will be important before I leave.
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I have in 6 months, moved my husband out, buried a family member, gotten a separation agreement, put up a retrospective show with over 60 pieces, had the retina detach in my right eye, moved out of the Rotary Centre, taken over an Okanagan College class from another teacher which included driving to Penticton to teach, cleared all of the waste building materials out of the backyard and replanted it, taught ESL students and taught classes for Continuing Studies.
It hasn’t been easy. But one quality I seem to have in my soul, my genetics, my life plan is stamina. While I had to pull off the road while I was crying so hard as to be “impaired”, I got to class on time every day, I filed my income tax in time, I organized all of the rooms in the house.
But the most difficult part of this experience has been learning to NOT run around and work. Learning to take time to reflect, to write, to care for my body, to heal my spirit has been the biggest lesson.
So since December 8th when I had plastic surgery on my abdominal muscles, it has been a climb back. What I am praying for, is that I am actually further up the mountain than I was previously.
I want to be done with bad choices and recovery. I ask the universe to release me from the effects of negative Karma. Whatever I did, I have been spanked and sent to time out. It is enough.
roses are a great gift of summer