Emptiness Refills itself

Supplies are neatly tucked away in the closet.

After packing everything for the Seattle exhibition of Celebrating Our Maiden Migrations my studio was empty, both physically and emotionally. Upon my return, I removed vestiges of the migrations project from the studio door, replacing them with the seven chakra colors. Then to make room in the bedroom closet for storing Maiden Migrations, I removed a rack of necklaces that I love and enjoy. I moved the rack to an 'empty' wall in the studio and above them I hung some of the India migration mementos.

The stick in the corner will be an elephant to go
with Southwest Asia in future exhibits. 

Shortly after this move, I received a donation request for one of my 'framed jewelry pieces.' I had donated two in the past: a small sculptural pendant and a butterfly pin. Curious about this jewelry synchronicity, I agreed even though I had no idea what I would create.

One move always triggers another and while hanging the mementos I noticed that my painting table had been gathering dust under an open window. I decided to move the table down a bit where it would catch less dirt. To do this I needed to move a large vertical storage unit out of the corner, replacing it with a smaller unit that serves as my cutting table. 

The maple tree outside the window makes this a desirable painting space.

After rolling the large unit to another corner, I collected a few items that inspire me and put them on the top: tree seeds and bark from Venezuela, a sea fossil, a succulent, an Egyptian bird, a table runner from Thailand, my zen toned clock, and an Aboriginal Australian picture of the Creative Power of the Universe. 

I completed my inspiration corner by adding some
inspirational quotes to the exposed side of the large unit.

Just then, I got an unexpected email from my gallery in Seattle with early plans for the December group show. Would I make/send two new pieces for a show focused on 'light'? Thinking maybe I could do something with my recent Gelli prints that have a lot of white (last month's blog), I said "Yes."  Since distance allows me to see things better than close up, I laid the prints on the floor.

Meanwhile, during a wire-wrapping workshop at a local bead store, I created a bird's nest pendant for my 'framed jewelry piece'. I decided to suspend the pendant on a string of tiny beads, simple but elegant. This meant I needed an unusual frame. After finding some frame options at Goodwill, I began fiddling with them, the Gelli prints, and the pendant. Getting up and down from the floor, it struck me that this was an awkward way to develop these projects. So I pulled a five-foot long table out of storage and set it up in the middle of the room.

My painting on the back wall, Maiden Mother Crone, reminds
me that the mothering phase of my life is over. The new priority
is sharing whatever wisdom I have gained.

 After a couple of days, I found that it was in the way of my other work spaces. Examining my options, my eyes landed on the round glass table that I use for seated work and for helping students. I discerned that switching the tables would make work flow between areas easier. Voila!

Table for my 'framed jewelry piece' and two 'light' compositions.
For final work on these I will hang them on the wall behind the table. 

I love my new studio space. The empty studio has been filled with new projects about which I knew nothing when I returned from the Migrations show in Seattle. It feels as though the empty future is beginning to overflow with possibility.