Sitting in my studio today, I was so focused on my current project, I almost missed it; the sun slipping out from behind a cloud, slowly, as if wanting to remain unnoticed. See, the sun doesn’t want credit for being The Sun. She needs no adulation or celebration. She’s a humble force; her sole purpose is to keep us safe. But she underestimates herself.
Does she know how we feel when the darkness changes to light? When the ice finally melts and she embraces us with warmth after what feels like an eternity? Does she know how powerful it is when she shines down on us after each tragedy, a message of love and light?
Today, as I sat surrounded by my work, I felt the sun’s presence as she emerged from hiding. My skin warmed as I watched the room illuminate. Even my dogs, who had been restless all day, responded by shifting toward the sunspot on the floor, instantly overcome by sleep.
It was at this moment that I felt fully grateful. My studio is my sanctuary, a place of peace as much as it is a place of function. I run my business in this room, creating, designing, and taking care of all the stuff behind the scenes. It isn’t easy running a small business, but it is worth it. Having a studio that brings me peace has always been a crucial part of my happiness.
The space I have now is magical. It’s a dream that I have worked toward for almost twenty years. A place permeated by light from the north, because north light reveals a luminosity in the stones unlike any other light. The ceilings practically touch the sky, the air swirling around, allowing me to breathe deep in gratitude.
The best part, though? It’s a room filled with gifts from friends, art made by friends, and mementos from my travels. All those things fill the studio with a light of their own, glowing with beauty and inspiration. I feel most at home here in this refuge from the storm, where I can ruminate and create, rest and recharge, find myself and lose myself.
I am lucky.