Dear Bears,
I'm coming out of a hibernation of sorts-- not an extended sleep but a disruption from my schedule. After spending the most magical weeks in Iceland, in a remote little blip of a town, I feel a deep affinity for the land and a shock of seeing so much foliage after nothing but short low to the ground mosses. The imagery and the experience will stay with me for _____ (ever? a while? at least so far?).
It felt so great to be back in a studio space, a dedicated and focused place for making lacking in distractions like comfortable seating or chores or screens. I found that semblance of community I had been missing in my cohabitants, in the mountain peaks, in the birds gone fishin'. I already feel the yearning to return to a bubble that isn't my own... wrapped up in clay and breads and spoons and warm jackets. I have nothing but good things to say about a place that is so clearly and thoroughly imbued with passion and fervor.
I don't have a lot to add yet, usually Friday work days are my days to spend mulling over my letters to no one, overall I am content. My cup is filled. Even if the coffee goes cold I'll still drink.
I miss you fjörd, friends, reindeer and whales and puffins and other birds with long beaks.
I feel lucky to feel sad when leaving a place------- a sign of a connection. I felt sad to say goodbye to my barn door, maybe because it coincided with a particularly difficult week, and even though that left me skeptical of hopping on a plane to some unknown I am glad I stuck with it. Traversing the perils of my winter barn arc definitely reminded me that I can persevere, especially when the other side seems clearly worth it.
Here's to finding things that are so clearly worth it,
Elise