My husband decided I need a studio.
He made it happen even though I was reluctant. "When will I ever be able to go?"
Upon reflection I realized that with two active boys and a baby so needy my reluctance was based in guilt over leaving them. I felt selfish taking for myself one evening a week. Probably not healthy.
The hallways smell of old-building, in the sink a friendly cockroach greets me as I wash my brushes, rhythms and melodies waft from the Wine Cellar beneath, and fervent IHOP prayers burst from the end of the hall. The creative fire in my belly is ready to spill its contents for the day's hours I've submitted to it's nurturance. What a privilage.
Every Wednesday evening I'm at the studio...alone.
Saturdays I spend doing workshops and one-on-one lessons.
I love my studio. I'm grateful.