A Room of One's Own

This morning at 8 am, I walked down to the creek, stood on the bridge and took this picture. The last time it will ever look like this.

Several hours later this was the scene.

 

And at the end of the day, like this.

Looking back from the street toward the house.

These were the first steps in the studio construction. It has been a long time coming. Nearly three years in a concrete sense, but much longer in other important ways.

Virginia Wolfe said, in order for a woman to write she must have her own money and a room of her own. The same I think if one is to do art of any kind. It is true that art can be made anywhere, and has been, but oh, so nice to have one's own dedicated space—and not just a cramped, dark little bedroom, which, by the way, I have always been happy to have. This seems really big to me. I know I will love having the space to work in, but I will also feel that what I do is deserving of the space.

Follow along here. I plan to bore you silly with all the gruesome details.