pointing somewhere invisible
august 6, 2009
when we said where the greenhouse was would be a studio, no one really knew what that would be like, least of all me.
i saw plans, sketches and lists of materials. i saw guys with tool belts, trucks, deliveries, nails, screws, windows and two trillion million waves of saw dust. i saw paint cans. i felt disjointed, happy, sad, excited, angry, elated, confused, exasperated, worn out, impatient, thrilled, amazed and pushed beyond what i could put up with…all those perceptions, feelings, expectations, disappointments and happinesses were involved.
i remember being glad for the decision to build a studio, for Steve and John and Tom and Phil’s input. i remember being sad that i ever thought it would be okay to have the sawdust, footprints, stink, hollowness and rain dripping in.
the resulting holidays, the woodstove, the views from the window, the extra space have been a dream-come-true.
I forgot that a dream-come-true often involves some nightmares… many of which can’t be foreseen ahead of time but are certainly well worth the discomfort.
