A Sacred Space

For many years I used to haul my painting gear from my home to my car, and to the studio space which I used twice a week at the Art Students League of Denver. After each session, I would scrape out my precious paints, clean out my easel and brushes, pack my gear, and lug it all back into my car. This was my routine, and although I cringed about wasting paint I am grateful for the time I spent honing my artistic skills, learning from talented artists and instructors, and making lifelong friends in the process. Back then I did not have a studio in my home, nor did I try to create one due to the health hazards of oil paint and mineral spirits.

When we decided to move to Vermont, we hoped to find a detached garage with an attic space. But, instead, we fell in love with a property that featured a charming cottage with a detached rustic barn and neglected storage shed.

One winter morning, I took a walk to take pictures of our new surroundings covered in a fresh blanket of snow. I stopped in front of the snow-covered shed that stood so quaint among the woodland. At that moment, I realized it could become a studio! I let the thought linger but we had other plans, the cottage house needed renovating and took priority.

Then the pandemic hit! The price of wood skyrocketed in the summer of 2021 so our plan to replace the exterior siding of the cottage fell through. Our contractor agreed to switch gears; instead, he took on the smaller project of renovating the shed. Every piece of wood was milled from local Vermont trees. In a few weeks, they turned the shed into a little gem. My husband and I painted it inside and out and it officially became my tiny art studio.

Joseph Campbell best expresses what this place means to me:

“To have a sacred place is an absolute necessity for anybody today. You must have a room or a certain hour of the day or so, where you do not know who your friends are, you don't know what you owe anybody or what they owe you. This is a place where you can simply experience and bring forth what you are and what you might be.”

I love my tiny studio. I no longer scrape away my paint. There is no wifi, no cell service, no distraction except the sound of nature.