Re-imaginings

I think a lot about fallow fields, new beginnings, change and transformation. As many of you know, my back failed years ago. Doctors told gave me a choice: Spinal fusion or quit sculpting. I chose to quit. I wrote four books, opened three new businesses, and resigned myself to the fact that creativity comes in many forms.

Then the pandemic hit. Most of my businesses were forced to close and my husband and I kept our essential business (the only hardware store in our community) operating with the help of a few committed employees. On the days I worked the store, I felt like I was under machine-gun fire. Lines went out the door and through the parking lot because we never ran out of the things people needed: Masks, gloves, wipes, paper towels, mason jars…

Early morning and late at night, I scoured the news so I could anticipate what products might disappear next and my husband searched suppliers to source supplies before they were no longer available. By the time the vaccine emerged, I was spent. Then, suddenly, I suffered a health emergency that confined me to bed (or, more often, the couch) for five months.

Though traumatic at the time, ultimately the pandemic and my health scare (Acute Compartment Syndrome), were gifts. They taught me to reevaluate my work ethos and, ultimately, redefine my life. I closed or sold my personal businesses. We started raising some of our food and I went back to my studio.

For the first time in my adult life, I was completely free to pursue any artistic direction. I made chairs. I made new sculptures (albeit slowly), and then I began to paint. And paint. And paint. I became obsessed as my inner child found a voice, became a teenager (replete with tantrums and moodiness) and matured into an adult.

Now, I’m re-emerging from the fallow fields of my previously abandoned studio and am fully engaged as an artist again. It’s thrilling. It’s messy. By the end of the day, my back aches and my knees click, but my eyes are alight. Paint splatters the walls, the ceiling, my hair and face and I haven’t been this excited since I discovered sculpting some thirty years ago.

But art isn’t the only thing consuming me these days. We now raise chickens, ducks, turkeys, and the occasional Berkshire hogs. I built a greenhouse on my back patio that’s connected to the house, a large cold frame, and several gardens. I spend most weekends making food from scratch (bagels, smoked lox, cream cheese, mozzarella, bread, etc. etc.).

I’m also traveling as much as I can.

Though the world is crazy right now and none of us know what the new normal will be, I’ve decided the only thing we control is what we give. To that end, I’ve decided to share what’s happening in my studio, on the homestead, and on my travel adventures. It’s my hope you will receive this as a gift and that the stories and art I share inspire and delight you.

Thanks for being here and I look forward to sharing the adventures with you.

With love and gratitude,

Destiny