In the studio, a good place to be. A safe place to roam the destinations I carry in my thoughts. The faces that visit, little worlds in the pockets of my imagination here and there, where feelings and emotions run free, and feel at home...
The truth is, it is only in the garden where I find an escape and can refuel enough, to come back to my friends day to day...
All with their own personalities.
Truly.
If you use paintbrushes I am certain you feel the same way.
It's like, they are characters in their own right.
I love all of my paintbrushes.
Even the old tattered ones.
No one will ever get thrown away, but more like elevated to royalty when they can no longer be used for painting. It's like, they get to retire to a tahiti of their own ;)
Is it okay to feel actual love, I mean really thump thump in your heart love, for art supplies?
I actually go weak in the knees and get butterflies in my stomach when I go into a proper art store.
I guess this is what happens when you start to get a little bit older, and a little bit wiser. You exchange pointless crushes, for meaningful ones ;)
And so, tucked into this space I call my studio, is where the real me, meets up with the girl I am in my mind's eye.
We collect inspiring trinkets for beckoning the muse...
They inspire thoughts, places...
An old 1800's hotel, at breakfast hour.
Possibly by the seaside?
Gloved women, tender clanking of teacups.
Hats, parasols...
Dapper gentlemen, curled mustaches...
A tune by Sir Edward Elgar wafts in.
We go there...
And, promptly get to work -
Happiest of days!
It is the height of spring, May is here, can you believe it?
Time is flashing before my eyes. Must soak it up as quickly as I can. Do you feel the same way?
From our neck of the woods, we wave madly!
