A studio share

When it needs to be quiet

Navigating sadness and loss is never easy and our family had to say goodbye to a much loved member a couple of weeks ago. So, when I came to do my spring shift around in my studio everything changed. Instead of wandering around outside collecting beautiful natural finds and then wandering around my studio looking for things to sit next to these finds, nothing happened. Well, obviously, something happened as I remember the duster being out and gathering all my winter moments to store them away. It was quite as if I lost time or that I was suspended deep within it.

As I dusted I reset some things that pretty much live in this studio corner all year round. I then made a cup of coffee, grabbed a blanket and curled up on my chair looking at the display expecting inspiration to arrive at any moment. Over time, I realised that inspiration wasn’t coming and that what I have created felt right just as it was. I had an overwhelming need not to do anything but sit and stare. We so don’t do that enough in our modern lives. It did make me smile though that I nailed the colour palette without noticing…..

Often, less is more and I think, as we age, we understand that better. In our virtual book artist studio during the winter we made a book capturing fragmented stories and this took me to the last folder of papers I had been holding onto so as I could fragment them and recreate a story on one of the pages in my book. The remainder paper went up in a beautiful puff of smoke in the hearth. Slowly, I have been reducing the things I hang onto and it has felt gentle and refreshing in equal measure.

Spring is a fabulous season to declutter and that includes our creative spaces. My space tends to be very busy over winter months as I spend longer inside so, by the time spring arrives, it needs a major declutter. And this took me to my display table. What started as apathy quickly became something more positive. It has become a quiet, incredibly gentle corner of my studio where I feel I can sit with a cuppa and remember. I can let thoughts drift around without order or care. I can just pay homage to a live very well lived and, with that, has become a growing sense of recovery. I can open the door and let the birdsong in and listen to the winds that envelop our island at this time of year. I can sit and stare. That is good enough for me. xx

About the author

I am a mixed media artist living on the Isle of Arran in Scotland. Here on Substack I write free content weekly focusing on seasonal creativity. I also run a paid subscription for folk interested in creating seasonal book arts projects. You are most welcome to wander through the seasons with me.