I was always safe, dreaming about the artistic future I wanted to have. A little studio and shoppe of my own. Space in which I could devote to all my creative ventures. A sewing room where I could surround myself with lush fabrics and bright colors in which to build bags and quilts. A mud room for clay work including a wheel and slab table, kilns for all the finishing and of course time. Time to work, play, create and build a place people want to visit. A place people come to seek unique gifts for family and friends. A haven for some who want to create along side me. A place to play into the person I want to be. The dream is grand to say the least.
I stand looking at packing boxes. Packing up all the notes I have made over all the years of what type of kilns, the sewing machine I'd love to own, and even the types of dessert I would serve up during our late evenings. The details of the dreams can be overwhelming. Now, I am here on the threshold, packing up to move that much closer to this dream. I have chosen the spot in the mountains where I would like nothing more than to build this dream and put it out in reality and we are headed directly there. A new town, a different home, the girls growing into their own. In a matter of a few short months I will have to face me. Even my youngest will be headed off to school this year ready to take the world by storm. My time to build and work on such dreams I have noted for all these years will be free to formulate from the pages of the notebooks into the present. I will have run out and exhausted all excuses to hold back and put it off just one more year and stay safe within the dream of it all.
I move each day closer, and I note, it does not feel as safe anymore; outside the dream. -Regi
