12 frogs

Today is a big deal for me: I officially have studio space in an artist’s building here in Eastie.

I’m sharing a big space with the fabulously talented jeweler Jaye Woodstock. (If that name sounds familiar, it might be because Lisa gave me one of her rings for my birthday last year, and I posted a photograph of it as part of the 365 days project.) Running into Jaye recently was one of those incredible synchronicity events: she was looking for someone to share space with, and I was — surprisingly — ready to take the leap. The universe opens a door like that for you, you shouldn’t turn away.

Of course, I’ve had to push back the annoying voice in my head, the one that says you’re not a real artist and you fraud, you poser and other helpful crap like that. That voice almost kept me from saying “actually, I’m interested in space” but I have an amazingly supportive spouse, and she told me very matter of factly I’d just need to get over the stupid shit in my head and go for it.

I may have to tell that voice to shut up on a daily basis, until it learns I’m serious. That’s okay, I’m willing to do it. Finally. Far better I take the chance now, than to be wondering what if? or maybe someday… in ten years. Or twenty.

Virginia Woolf declared, “a woman must have money and a room of her own if she is to write fiction”. It seemed a long shot that many women would make it happen when she wrote those words eighty years ago. Now, plenty of women have earned their five hundred pounds a year, have claimed their space, are making their art.

Amazing though it may seem to me, I’ve earned my money and now I have my space. Almost two hundred square feet of my own, no one in my way but me. And I can move.