Picture by Wednesdays in Marblehead The Bohemian Pearl studio is situated in the lovely little town of Marblehead, Massachusetts and lies about 16 miles north of Boston. I was excited when we moved here because after several years of living England where you basically experience two seasons - fall and spring - I was finally going to experience all four seasons again. I lived a great portion of my life in the Midwest so I'm familiar with what it means to survive tough winters and because I'd been away from that for so long I knew I had to mentally prepare myself for what this winter was bound to bring. And at first, it was OK. It was cold, but nothing I couldn't handle. There were threats of snow, but for the longest time it just never seemed to fall. And I remember saying to myself, "I wish the sky would get this over with and just dump some snow on us already, instead of teasing us with that stupid grey sky!". There are times in life when we regret the words we shout out to the universe. This is one of those times.
As if granting my wish the sky did, indeed, open up. It snowed. And snowed. And it just kept coming. In a period of about three weeks we were bombarded with about seven feet of snow. Having so much snow fall in such a short space of time was even astonishing to this native Iowan. Needless to say it's been a long winter. So when the temperatures reached 60 degrees yesterday, it was as if we were handed a gift from the tropic gods. I was in heaven! Finally, I was able to resume working from my studio. Bliss! Now, I realize that there's part of the story you're missing here so let me fill you in. All through the fall and winter I was happily working from said studio, which is actually a three-season room. I put an electric heater in the space which kept it reasonably toasty. But then the ice dams starting forming on the roof. And the leaking began. In the most awkward of places - it was basically seeping through the top of the window frame which means that it would just slide down the window and splash on the windowsill which sprayed all over anything within a three-foot radius. Not good when you work with paper, like I do. And because this leak was in such an awkward and horrible place I couldn't just catch it in a bucket and work around it. I had to shut off the heat which was warming up the ice, contributing to the melting effect, remove quite a bit of my stuff and just shut up the studio. There it lay dormant for the next several weeks, inhibiting any creative output. And dampening my creative muse.
As if granting my wish the sky did, indeed, open up. It snowed. And snowed. And it just kept coming. In a period of about three weeks we were bombarded with about seven feet of snow. Having so much snow fall in such a short space of time was even astonishing to this native Iowan. Needless to say it's been a long winter. So when the temperatures reached 60 degrees yesterday, it was as if we were handed a gift from the tropic gods. I was in heaven! Finally, I was able to resume working from my studio. Bliss! Now, I realize that there's part of the story you're missing here so let me fill you in. All through the fall and winter I was happily working from said studio, which is actually a three-season room. I put an electric heater in the space which kept it reasonably toasty. But then the ice dams starting forming on the roof. And the leaking began. In the most awkward of places - it was basically seeping through the top of the window frame which means that it would just slide down the window and splash on the windowsill which sprayed all over anything within a three-foot radius. Not good when you work with paper, like I do. And because this leak was in such an awkward and horrible place I couldn't just catch it in a bucket and work around it. I had to shut off the heat which was warming up the ice, contributing to the melting effect, remove quite a bit of my stuff and just shut up the studio. There it lay dormant for the next several weeks, inhibiting any creative output. And dampening my creative muse.
I relayed the sad news of our leaky windows to our landlady and after a few days a wonderful, magical man came and removed the snow from the roof and chipped the ice away. The incredibly warm temperatures quickly melted away what he was unable to remove from the gutters and - presto! - I again had a usable studio! Oh glorious day! So I spent a good portion of our unseasonably warm day clearing out my studio of all of the crap we dumped there as its time as an unusable abyss, returned some items to their appropriate places, and did a little re-arranging of supplies and I have to tell you, it filled me with so much loveliness and inspiration inside! So good was this feeling that it gave me pause to reflect on how important spaces are to us as humans and I think especially to those with a creative pulse. I was beginning to think that maybe my creative instincts had left me and that maybe I would cease to be an artist. After all, I had absolutely ZERO motivation, inspiration or desire inside to draw from. I just stopped caring and was about to write a eulogy to my departed muse. Funny how one warm day can change everything.
So I'm happy to report that, with my energy restored, I'm writing this blog from my renewed space and it feels great. And I feel like I can tackle some projects which have been laying on the backburner for quite some time now - namely, a bespoke piece of artwork which was requested by a friend as a birthday present to her husband. Thankfully, I was able to tide him over with a mini piece of artwork in the meantime. I can't wait to get started!
So I'm happy to report that, with my energy restored, I'm writing this blog from my renewed space and it feels great. And I feel like I can tackle some projects which have been laying on the backburner for quite some time now - namely, a bespoke piece of artwork which was requested by a friend as a birthday present to her husband. Thankfully, I was able to tide him over with a mini piece of artwork in the meantime. I can't wait to get started!
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