Studio

Thirty-five years ago, I chose for my studio an old barn on our seven acres, just 900 feet from our home.

A tin roof, wood stove, windows along all four sides, and room to work outside have endeared me to this precious structure. I can nail the tools of my art up almost anywhere, build a temporary easel for a work in progress and move tables and lighting fixtures around at will. I love the feeling of the changing seasons, being freed from the thought of having every cubic inch of space within a narrow temperature range, twelve months a year. And the best part is I can wear my Good Will clothes until they are ready for the rag pile, or “mysteriously” disappear from my closet. I have always disliked new clothes, preferring to dress somewhere between “old money” and people who work the land, mines, and shipyards. Here, our “dress code” makes casual Friday look like prom night.