Headline: Highly Contagious Flu impacts Billions

It seems fitting, now that I think of it, that the first artwork to grace the walls of my new studio space is a drawing of a skeleton.

Symbolically, it represents the basic structure. The foundation has been poured, the walls raised, the floor laid. And now, though it is sturdy, a hollow feeling remains, awaiting all the necessary components to make it a complete living organism: furniture (vital organs), window and floor trim (muscle), and a working artist (lifeblood).

The new addition is sort of like having a third arm added to my body. I have always made do with two but could certainly put a third to use. It feels a bit strange and I am not quite acclimated to it yet. Having our house nearly double over the course of the last few months has been overwhelming at times, but also exciting. The new studio will allow me to work with clay year-round, no more below-freezing barn temps to deal with, lugging buckets of water back and forth, and hungry nesting critters who find my fiber creations tempting and cozy.

Fifteen years ago I had a vision. No, it wasn't a mystical white light pouring over me with the voice of God speaking profoundly about my soul's purpose. It was more of an an epiphany. In one moment of clarity I felt I knew my life's purpose and could "see" the physical environment in which I would work and what I would be doing, and how I would be contributing to the healing of this Earth. I just didn't know how I would get there.

At the time, I was not a teacher, at least not in the public school classroom sense. My life was a blank slate and anything was possible. Back then, I wouldn't have understood how even the smallest change or experience would influence my journey and bring me to this moment, which is still not the end, but very much the beginning.

So, I had this vision: a space for people to create, and in the process, heal. Over the years, The "retreat" has morphed in the physical sense, being tweaked in my mind to what is adequate to meet my goals, but also manageable. Instead of a massive arts-compound with cabins and hordes of people shuffling through and the stress of running a major business, I decided to focus on a more intimate, personal approach: a healing space for my husband and me where we invite others, in a more laid back sort of way, to create and heal with us.

The Gahnadi Quote comes to mind "You must be the change you wish to see in the world."

And certainly, much change is needed. My approach is to strive for a life of balance, creativity, empathy, knowledge, kindness, truth, love, and sharing. That's a tall order, but a satisfying one. Just imagine, what if that were to become the latest pandemic? The headlines would read.....

Harmony Flu Sweeps Across the Globe: CDC Warns World Peace Inevitable.