Studio Shot: New Space

Icons over my work space: Ambrose and the True Vine

A few months ago, I moved from a fancy place in a studio complex full of artists to an un-used Sunday School classroom in an old church. I have to say, I prefer my new studio. Its cracked walls and faded linoleum floors suit me. The renovated warehouse space--complete with modern sliding barn doors--that I came from was beautiful to look at, but I always felt slightly on display. I never knew who might want to come in a take a look while I worked. It was great for meeting people, but not ideal for making work.

My new place is perfectly private. Most times, the only other people on my end of the building are kids from the Hispanic youth group, running down the halls or singing away on their guitars.  There are also a music school, a pre-school, other artists, rented office space, and two churches that share the space.

 While it is lively and energetic, I can hide away and enjoy all that action from a distance in my corner room. It certainly doesn't hurt that the building is just blocks away from out favorite tortilleria.

The space is plain; it's just a big open room, really, but it motivates me to get to work, which I really need to do since my studio time is limited these days. I walk in, turn on my wax, put my apron on and I'm ready to go. No people to talk to. No aimless wandering. No could-be but probably-won't-be patrons. Just me, my materials, time, and the space to hover over these larger pieces that I'm currently working on.

I'm sure there will be another season were I'll have a more public or communal space, but for now I love my quiet hole on the corner of Roxboro and Ellerbee.

For Blythe

Ruby Blythe Marie is my daughter's name. Her hair is nearly red and, to my mind, she possesses super delicious cheeks. She's happiest when outdoors, reading, dancing or being tickled. Her first word was "hat." When she's happy, her belly does a little wiggle that just slays me. She's afraid of fire truck sirens but will tromp alone into deep-wooded wilderness without a bit of concern. She is the most delightful thing I've ever experienced.

Golden Hearts to Guard & Open Spaces to Guide, encaustic, oil, and paper on wood, 30 x 40, 2013 

I started this painting for her last spring; only recently did I complete it. I wanted to make her something that she could hold onto her whole life--and enjoy looking, knowing and being known by it. I sincerely hope that it will inspire her toward the life which I pray for her daily. I tried, in fact, to make something that could hold all my prayers and yearnings for her in one visual experience. I was thinking about peace and big skies, gatherings of golden friends, growing, living things and some words that we've been praying for her since we knew she was living inside of me.

"For this reason I bow my knees before the Father, from whom every family in heaven and on earth is named, that according to the riches of his glory he may grant you to be strengthened with power through his Spirit in your inner being, so that Christ may dwell in your hearts through faith—that you, being rooted and grounded in love, may have strength to comprehend with all the saints what is the breadth and length and height and depth, and to know the love of Christ that surpasses knowledge, that you may be filled with all the fullness of God.

Now to him who is able to do far more abundantly than all that we ask or think, according to the power at work within us, to him be glory in the church and in Christ Jesus throughout all generations, forever and ever. Amen." -- Ephesians 3:14-21

The piece now hangs above her crib. Blythe points to it and talks about it all the time. Since it will be hidden away from the world for a while, I thought I'd make it available in the shop. It's now available as a print in both 8.5 x 11 and 11 x 14 sizes. Enjoy!