Studio No More

If you follow me on Instagram (ahem, @holyfluck) you may have noticed I've been dropping hints of the closure of my art studio. I know, I know. It's a sort of tragedy. My throat starts to close up every time I think about it or talk about it. The last few months have been a season of deep grief for me. I've been called to let go of many of the things that feel like I'm swimming upstream with. I'm tired. These couple of years spent working in the studio have been... everything. It's been bliss, pain, frustration, shame, pride, excitement, growth, joy, hope, disappointment, gratitude, the list goes on. A whirlwind of emotional energy! And.. I'm spent. No, literally, I have spent every dollar I owned and every dollar I could borrow. The business side of art has been brutal- especially sculpture. I have plonked myself in a mountain of credit card debt. Ouch. Dream chasin' ain't always so pretty. So, yeah. I could probably push more, grind more, show up more even though it feels like I'm dying. But I don't want to. I'm starting to wonder what my life would feel like if instead of pushing past my quiet desires to slow down and simplify, I honor them. I don't want to conquer myself, no. I want to know myself. I want to learn my rhythms and dance with my life. It is not force, it is feel. And I feel like turning this page of my life.

I will not lose myself to a dream. I'm turning in the keys to my studio to take a stand for my peace. Oh it hurts! But it also inspires a new kind of soft life for myself, one that my soul has been begging for for awhile now. Bittersweet, we call this dichotomy. I've been leafing through old photographs and videos of the journey spent within the studio. Hello, nostalgia! I've grown so much. And my work is genuinely fucking awesome! I made some magic in that little Bushwick room. I'm proud of myself. I'm looking forward to the evolution of my creativity outside the nest of my studio. Where will my energy go with the freedom to expand in any direction?

Ever since the thought of abandoning the studio first crossed my mind, my ego has been protesting. My headspace has been an incessant monologue of fear and shame. But as I slowly start to migrate some of my most valued studio possessions to my apartment, I'm already feeling energized in a way that was feeling impossible to access in the confines of the stoods. Growth can feel like death. Creation and destruction are circular. Letting go is an act of love.

Creativity cannot be confined!