A splot of metallic copper paint is shimmering on the back of my hand as I sit down to the computer for a moment – a leftover smudge from the final coat of faux copper painted onto the ceiling of the studio nap room – aka  “the nest.”  Serene.  Heavenly.  Sweet.  The nest has grand views (five windows).  The copper and faux Venetian plaster is a warm earthy cozy welcome respite from the zap happy lime green study below.  The floor will be painted deep purple and a henna-inspired mural painting of the Tree of Life will bloom itself up a wall and onto the ceiling - someday. Birds and Buddhas are the theme for the nest.  Dreamie. Last Friday Paul and I packed up all of his tools and took down the scaffolding.  I swept.  We opened the doors so that Momma Nature could blow out the sawdust while I spun around.  The amazing brand NEW pristine inspiring space is…mine.

I wept.

Simply sat down on the cement floor of this elegant empty clean-slate compelling place, I felt overwhelmed by the gift, the grace, the years and years of dreaming/struggling/believing and then…this! Even as I begin to move each truckload of studio stuff from storage I find myself shedding tears and grinning.  I see myself on this big blank first page of a new chapter in a vivid richly packed fully lived book of my life.  Little o’l me…not much bigger than a punctuation point.   There.  On the white page, in the white sunlit studio - a question mark -an exclamation point and three little dots.

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