Sunday, June 6, 2010

The Studio Door

As I get ready to say goodbye or as my BaBa used to say, so long, to my studio I leave you with a picture of my door. I love this door given to me by a woman deceased these last few years, a woman who was one of the first visitors after Jake was born, who had a lovely home here in town at North beach, who loved being a bus driver for the local transit company. I think of her every time I place my hand on the knob of the door to open or close it. I like to think she works with me in the studio and smiles when I feel accomplished. This feisty old liberated, tough, runs with the wolves kind of friend I still miss to this day.

I love the embroidered cover I use as a shade on the door. Brought back to me by a friend from India, it has little shiny mirrors in the stitches and entwined leaves, flowers and birds.

The picture on the wall is also from a friend who went quietly into that good night. An amazing man, with such an interesting life story ( he lived in China before WWII ! ) and of whom I had the privilege of owning an art gallery with. This is a poster for an art show of his featuring the incredible black and white photos he took on his journey into China. He was a fighter pilot in WWII and was caught behind enemy lines. Amazing that his life touches mine through this poster every time I am in the studio.

My hand painted gold stars are on the wall. All gold paint and rusted iron hammered on hearts. some days you just need a gold star, even if you award them to yourself.

Yes, this is all part of my studio, part of the lives of people who have touched me. It is home and when I am away, I miss it and think of working in it again, the moment I set foot in its door. And in the studio my friends silently wait for the activity upon my return and our lives, their's then and mine now, become entwined.

1 comment:

Elaine said...

Thank you for sharing; I have tears in my eyes, but am also smiling as I recall friends and family I have had that are now gone, they that have affected me in the same way. Thank you also for blessing me with the opportunity to remember them, again.