I last wrote about the mess in my
studio; the fact that I went public with that disorder prompted the
decision to vacate that studio where I had “lived” for the past
10 years. The Torpedo Factory has been a second home for more than
30 years. It has provided me with a place to indulge myself
experimenting with a variety of media and it is where I met the
women who form our group of fiber artists.
Although I kept a sewing machine and a
cabinet of threads, cloth and notions in the studio, I also made
space for paint, paper, metal etc. I took classes held in the
building that provided the inspiration to experiment and broadened my
appreciation of other visual arts.
Life at home
seems another world away. It is a solitary life and though artists
are thought to be people who must create in solitude in order to be
considered "serious," I find that this is probably not true –
a stimulus is needed. There has to be an effort to go downtown to a
museum, look at books, read poetry. There are no pubs in my
neighborhood – or any place to go to engage in spirited
conversation. I’m completely incompetent using a computer in spite
of the fact that it has become a fact of life and may be the only
means open for me to continue to express myself! Proof of this is the
fact that this piece must be posted by a friend.
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