I guess that was my age. Fifth grade. Go figure.
The teacher lets me be the hall monitor, which means I can use the key to get supplies for the classroom out of the closet down the hall.
I stand in there, with the crayons, construction paper, glue, paints, pencils . . . my oh my . . . and vow to have my very own art supply room/stuido someday.
I'm 71 this year, making my childhood dream come true, again.
I've had other studios. One in an old dance studio above a gospel church in Anchorage, Alaska, the paper mâché one in Eugene a dozen years ago, a rented room behind a grocery store in West Eugene, the studio of sorts that came with managing the DIVA non-fit arts organization in Drain and my own shop and studio around the corner from it.
But it's different this time. All my passions fit into this one and I'm pretty sure I finally know what I'm doing in this one and why. All my hard work made it happen and that feels great. I feel like reaching back in time and patting that 11-year-old girl on the shoulder and telling her "You've got this!"
This adventure, like all adventures, comes with its challenges. I have some health issues that I have to work around, some surgery to plan for and a growing
understanding that right now is the only time any of us have to live our best lives. Still I don't feel any any hurry. If anything I feel like slowing down and enjoying the rest of the ride. That means letting go of some less than meaningful endeavors and focusing on what brings me peace and joy.
It's very true that I love creating art but it's equally true that I love sharing it.
So thanks for taking part in my joy and letting me share it with you.