living deep studio

Welcome to my new online home.

I’m in the midst of moving in and it might take some time to get fully settled. Still, I have this deep desire to tell you a little bit about the new place. Because I think you might be wondering a few things. Like, what does living deeply mean? And, is there really a studio for that?

Yes, there really is a studio.

Let me tell you the story of how it came to be, in words and pictures.

It all started late last summer, right before the women’s creative wisdom circle kicked off. I needed a space with a big table where we could spread out and play with all kinds of expressive art. I was mightily resisting going out to find it, though. I kept flashing back to my years of teaching, presenting, and facilitating: classes, workshops, seminars, conferences, groups. All the schlepping and hauling of materials. I just couldn’t face it again.

Then one day it came to me: I could reclaim a room in my home and dedicate it to the women’s circle and all things creative. So I brought in these two table-doors, thinking I’d line them up down the center of the room on Thursday nights.

Well, I came to my senses a few hours before our first gathering — no way would we all fit in there. Instead, I fished my old dining room table out of the garage and put it back where it had lived for many years. (Yes, there was a lot of frantic table-moving that day.)

The result? The women’s creative wisdom circle just naturally flowed into the rest of the house on Thursday evenings, which turned out to be a beautiful thing.

And left me with a creative studio to call my own.

Even though the door-tables never got moved to the center of the room for group art-making, I discovered they’re perfect right where they are. I can store a lot under them, like this cart filled with paper, journals, yarn, ribbon, crayons, ephemera, and stacks of process painting experiments.

There’s space on top to plop things too, like this basket filled with images. (Lately I’m fascinated by the rough, textural, grainy quality of newspaper images.)

Conveniently, there are shelves on the other side of the room to house books and pipe cleaners and scissors.

And crafty, arty goodies.

Not to mention lots and lots of paint.

For months I even had my computer under the shelves until I realized the view was better on the opposite wall.

It’s nice to have that space to spread out around the computer now, even though there’s a visitor that sometimes makes it hard to do that.

But there’s another expanse of flat workspace to the right of the computer that’s relatively feline-free, and it’s good for art journaling and whatnot. A bunch of renegade art supplies have found their way there too: pastels, paint brushes, paint pens, markers. And yes, that is a garlic press popping out of the brass container. Who knew it was just the thing for making cool spaghetti-like clusters from clay?

An old printer’s tray hangs above the art materials. Dave spied it at an antique fair and we got it for a steal. Now I’ve appropriated it and one day hope to use it for an interesting mosaic-like fabric collage.

In the meantime I’ll settle for this clothes pin frame that can hold a rotating gallery of expressive arts experiments.

One of the things I most love about this proverbial room of my own is that it’s in the heart of the house. I can spend time alone there yet still feel embraced by the energy around me. Truth is, the guest chair is rarely empty.

Which brings me to the end of the tour and the end of the story of how the studio came to be.

There’s still another question, though, the one I started with: What is Living Deep?

During the past year I’ve been reminded, again and again, that the really juicy stuff of life isn’t about playing a bigger game or winning or getting to the A-list or living big.

I think what we all truly yearn for is to live deeply.

Somewhere along the way it occurred to me that as I was creating this outer studio space, I was also creating an inner heart space to do just that:

Live deep.

I also noticed that others (clients, friends, colleagues) were trying to do that too:

Live deep.

For me, the art of living deep is a practice that holds our stories, our creative wisdom, and our relationships.

And Living Deep means…

• showing up
• telling our stories
• tapping into our creative essence
• softening to our vulnerability and innate wisdom
• trusting the power of relationship to foster transformation

That, my friends, is why I’m here.

I’m so glad you’re here too.

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