studio

Landlocked

May 3, 2011 by The Noisy Plume

In the new space, I’ve been writing.

There is no shore in Idaho

no finely misting rains falling on the wide white breath of the magnolias

(gulping and greedy with spiny tongues in the briny breeze)

no fisherman’s wives waiting for sunset and

bearded lovers in burly wool sweaters

(musky with sea spray and fish slime).

There are no holdfasts laying

bulbous

and rank with fleas

on pebbled beaches where the surf flings itself

on the backs of tanning selkies.

There is no high tide to pull the driftwood

smooth-blond and gnarled

from the raspy clutches of high ground.

There are none of these

and still

there seems to be an ocean

between us.

:::Post Scriptus:::
You never saw the second chamber pre-renovation
but my, it was dismal.
Didn’t RW make a lovely place of it?
More images to come!

Filed Under: poetry, studio, writing

I photographed my work space last night, before the sun went down, with nothing to light the room but the last of the golden hour creeping in through the huge window that faces West. I made these pictures for a dear woman friend of mine who is doing a thing…but I thought you might like to see them too!

I really like my work space.

It’s selfishly arranged since I am the only person to use this half of the building.

I flow between tools as I work, my body has the room mapped perfectly, I wear grooves in the poured, pebbled epoxy floors. If I was to change one thing about my space, I’d change the color of the walls. The former owner’s glass blowing ex-wife painted them a deep mocha hue. I’d prefer them to be the lightness of space breeding white or the pale grey of a dove belly! Otherwise, it’s home sweet creative home!

[…and then this morning! Oh the light!]

Have you a creative work space?

If so, what’s it like?

What would you change about it, if you could?

What does your dream studio space look like?

My Dream Studio:

I’d love an entire refurbished barn — about 100 years old, fully insulated and finished on the inside with plenty of huge windows that let the light stream in, a mountain view to the West and a prairie view to the East.
I’d like it to have a wood stove for heating during the colder months and huge sliding doors to throw open in the warmer days of summer.

I’d like the South and North entrances flanked with aspen groves and perhaps a raspberry patch or two.

I’d like to watch my horses and jersey cow graze as I work, a blacksmith forge on the main level and a tidy work space up in the loft — a space for my antique typewriter collection, letter writing, painting, reading, napping and journaling…and kittens.

RW tells me he’s working on it.
HA HA!!!
Dream big or not at all,
that’s my motto.

For a better view of these images, pop over to my Flickr
site and view them on black!
x

Filed Under: studio

Heavy Heart Destiny

February 23, 2011 by The Noisy Plume

For whatever reason, I was destined to wake with a heavy heart this morning.

There are a million wonderful things happening to me right now, but that small clattering handful of unrest in my life (it’s so steady, constant and undoing) managed to tug my heart strings down to earth, like gravity tugs at the soles of my shoes when I cross these great valleys and high places…

I put on the soft sweet of The Swell Season, out in the studio, and tried to work my way towards lightness. But the tears kept flowing, the frustrations kept fraking with my spirit (yes, Battlestar Galactica terminology there…), the growing pains kept aching, the realizations kept dawning and I just felt heavier and heavier, even with RW in the next room, packing and shipping jewels and discussing with me the myriad of heartaches I was feeling.

At some point, I looked up, and saw the message I wrote myself long ago. I wrote it and stuck it to the window in front of my main work bench.

I read it over and over, stared past that small piece of paper to the white of the mountains blended with sky in the great beyond, I let those words sink into my heart, saturate my bruised spirit, wipe the water from my eyes.

It was then that the snow began to fall.

Flakes like Persian cats were descending and tangling themselves in the blue spruce and taxed perennials out in the garden and I just continued to sit.

Absorb.

Flow.

And I understood those wild little perfectly unique snowflakes and I stepped outside my studio door and realized that everything was going to be ok.

Everybody, everything is going to be ok.

And then I knew lightness.

Plum flapped her ears like the sweet and darling Dumbo she is.

The snow continued to fall.

And there was flight of being, wide wings, bird song

and that Still Small Voice.

I know we all wake up with heartache, sometimes for days and days at a time, but really, when it all comes down to it, everything is going to be ok. These burdens that weigh anchor in the depths of our souls are not ours to carry. I grew up and outside of mine today, reaching for the light like a tender shoot. I passed those burdens into the hands of the wind and watched them drift away like seeds in autumn. They’ll come back and take root once more, and when they do, I’ll open my hands again and cast them back into the breeze. They don’t own me. Not any more. Nor do they own you. Let them go.

Be light, my friends.

Be in the Light.

Be of the Light.

Plume

Filed Under: oh...just stuff, Plumbelina, studio

Dans le Studio/In The Habitat

October 27, 2010 by The Noisy Plume

Welllllllllll!!! I’ve had a few notes recently from a handful of ladies asking me to do a short video of myself working in the studio. Today I set the Flip down on Fat Baby (my press), put on some Dierks Bentley and recorded myself working for the length of the song. It’s totally weird — at least it is to me. I don’t know how I put anything together correctly when I’m bopping around like this…and at one point RW walks in, squeezes my bottom and smooches me (or did I smooch him….???) (we’re kind of like a crazy pair of teenagers). Either way, you get a good look at 4 minutes of my day while I was in the studio this afternoon!

xx
PS Have I told you lately how much I love the mandolin. And the banjo. And…and…and…Dierks?

PSS I was making this:

Filed Under: studio, Video Blog

Glass Half Full

September 10, 2010 by The Noisy Plume

My spirit felt like this today…for a little while:

Today, everything keeps getting in the way of everything. Some days are like this. I take one step forward and then ten steps back. I can’t gain ground. The duties of the day form a wide cascade and I’m sinking down deep in the froth of details, errands, rearrangements!

Additionally, I’m dog sitting a couple of dogs at the moment which is rather disruptive in the way that all animals in my household as well as the dogs of friends must be segregated for mealtimes so that Penelope doesn’t eat her self to death (she is a hound, after all). I was unsuccessful in this yesterday. Penelope (very sneakily) ate roughly 12 times what she is usually given for a meal portion and as a result, she became sick. By sick, I mean I woke up to a total of 10 accidents all over the house this morning. A heartbreaking start to the day. Even more heartbreaking? One dog moved my entire front porch off the front porch. Shells and ocean detritus I so carefully collected in the Pacific Northwest a few weeks ago were reduced to pieces, shards, minute bits of memories of the sea shore. Dirty papasan cushions crushing the columbine patches. Broken flower vases.

Gah.

Oh well. Stuff is stuff. As always, I’ve forced myself to see the glass as half full — it’s good to get into the practice of always seeing the bright side in everything. Healthy for the mind and soul — debilitating for self pity and depression.

There’s always this fellow:

My sweet, ever loving, bird dog darling who does not suffer from the eating disorder of gluttony. I love his smoochieboofa.

There’s the mail that always comes at the perfect time when I need encouragement,

words of wisdom,

news from afar

and general gladness of divine proportions.

From this image, you know who you are. Thank you.

There’s the expanse of my studio space — my creative space,

the falling into rhythm with a hammer,

the singing to the music,

the light,

the mountains in the distance,

the smell of the blue spruce in the front yard

and working in my favorite cowboy boots.

And then there was lunch:

A side of freshly picked cherry tomatoes and a bagel sandwich, gluten free and exploding with soft poached eggs (one from Rhonda, one from Winona), dill and Havarti. Thank the good heavens for cheese.

There’s also the Mister who will be home soon to help me shoulder these things. There will be his broad chest to bury my face in and him, suggesting I draw a hot bath for myself in the evenings. I’m getting better at caring for myself, but he is the very best and very most skilled when it comes to the task.

Happy Friday to you all!

I hope yours was smooth, productive and full of grand surprises.

If not, let’s hold this half full glass together and rejoice in all the good we can see.

Indian summer, mint leaves and ripe plums,

The Plume

PS I finished this beautiful fellow late last night!