a room to make the magic happen
i realize that magic happens in all the rooms of our home. to be indiscreet, the bedroom. to be fed, the kitchen. to return to ourselves, the livingroom. but the magic to which i refer in this post is the magic of creation, of imagination, of interpretation of facts and figures and natural law into something personal and artistic. something at first very private, with secret hopes of later being shared.
joanne gave me the table, we rescued the chair from a dumpster and the branches were gifts from a windy storm a few weeks back. jeremy made the cranes with pages of a vintage craft book we got from a library discard pile and i made the sewing machine cover with old plaid shirts and a vision of tulips made of ruched pink pleats.
tins from our wedding hold tools to write and paint and cut fabric with. paintings from my youth look squarely my way as i stare at some distant spot, recognizing or not the influence of objects from different moments in time.
bring on the crafts! i bought a vintage radio which i'll keep tuned to the cbc and i'll listen and learn as i bump along from one creative adventure to the next, sometimes letting them overlap as i sit beneath my indoor trees and dream.