My home is a haven. My studio is not simply a shop with tools.
Sharing a chunk of my life with Paul and the kids in Bozeman during the past year is a “cup-runneth-over” blessing. Four souls (new loved ones) landed in my life not long before a year punctuated with the loss of my father and the surgical removal of some significant girlie parts. While I mourned the loss of my ability to have children the Cosmos gifted me – not with motherless children– but with three children whose hearts are big enough to love another momma-ish being in their lives. Blessings and surprises never cease; the little buggers teamed up with two of my nieces to perform a play for my father after his pancreatic cancer diagnosis AND they each made mother’s day cards for me.
Goosebumps, tears, and a grin.
I was careful not to tromp on the familiar home they previously shared with both of their parents while the bond between us blossomed. I felt like a misplaced flower in a garden not at all like my own – I tip-toed through the tulips. Last week we moved from that over-large vacuous echo-filled unconsciously arranged place into a smaller comfy family-oriented home near a creek at the base of a canyon within their school district. PHEW! Our new home feels weed-free and ready for us to arrange ourselves with each other in mind. The rented house is older but the energy is fresh and family oriented. I call it “The Hyalite House.”Unexpectedly life has placed me in three gardens at once: my cabin at the end of the road near the top of a mountain, the studio, and now – the Hyalite House. Skipping, rooting, creating, settling and embracing.