I have an unusually emotional attachment to my studio. And sometimes that isn't a good thing for me. I probably have an unhealthy attachment to my home as well. It is my canvas, my safe shelter--the place where everything makes sense. And even when we've been stuck inside for days on end with sick kids or bad weather, it's always where I long to go back to.
But my studio has seen some rough days. It's where I create and an integral part of that creative process has been exploring, venting, analyzing, and wrestling with some pretty dark and strong emotions. And it's a pretty small space to contain all of that darkness, even with the french doors open to the afternoon sun. Thankfully my studio is also our homeschool classroom. But despite the good memories we're still making there, I'm still finding it difficult each time to step back inside. The ghosts can be stifling.
I thought I had conquered all this several months ago after the longest hiatus I've ever taken from my art. I knew it was going to be hard getting back into creating after being gone so long, but a few artsy afternoons with friends blew away the dust and welcomed me back into my beloved space. I did have to change a few things, though. Paintings came off the walls, my whole desk space was rearranged (I can't imagine why I didn't do it sooner!), and I let our school stuff spread out much further than my usual limits just because it made me happy to see it there.
I quickly dove back into creating with abandon, though I ignored my journal for a time. I made myself some purses and belts and clothes--all safe stuff but fun and rewarding when it enlarges your lean thrift store wardrobe. I eventually conquered the fear of my journal and even started trying out some new things. But then, as often happens, I got caught up in school, which takes a bigger portion of our days as the kids get older, writing our new curriculum, meeting with friends and drinking wine and, well, there are only so many hours in the day.
Now it's been probably 3 weeks since I've had any significant time in the studio or in my journal. And, as usual, it has been a struggle to get back in. When I step in the room, there's a weight that begins pressing on my chest making it difficult to breathe. But then there's the sigh of relief there, too. And a sweetness of hours spent alone or with friends. Regardless, I know what I have to do. I may push it aside for a while, but I know I have to push through it and get back in there. There is no other alternative for me.
I managed about 30 minutes in the studio earlier then allowed myself to get interrupted. But, I'm headed back in there now! Already got my phone, my water, and that's it. Ready to go.