And alas, besides touch ups and a bit more settling in, I've moved into my new space. Feels damn good. The other day I was alone in the studio, sitting on a stool eating breakfast and had a wave of content wash over me. Feels good to have a workspace of one's own.
As I worked in the studio this morning, the hum of traffic whizzed by. Brookes Boswell, the hat maker and owner of Boswell Shop, lives nearby, and I always see her walk her dog. We smiled and waved to each other as she strolled by. I made a friend at the coffee shop the other day, she helped me carry cups over that I had bought for ladies I was having a shoot with that day. I stop in and out whenever I want.
If you didn't know, my old space was out in St. John's, a charming offshoot of Portland 13 miles from my home. Thirteen miles is far for Portland. It was a fairly secluded space nestled next to the St. John's Bridge. As much as I loved that space, being a part of a neighborhood again is such a satisfying feeling. I tend to keep to myself in the winter, head buried in a river or work, so all the human contact I can get, even if it's a smile through glass, makes a worlds difference for morale.
In case you're nearby and want to peer in, the R/A Studio is located in the Buckman neighborhood in Southeast Portland on SE 14th and Morrison. I'm right next to Washington School, across from Nostrana and Floyd's Coffe.e. My space is the former Luluville Workshop, also known as the dollhouse house. I'm here most days, in and out. If you see me in there, say hi!
I lived down the street from here years ago and would pass almost every day, so it's funny to me that I now have keys to inside. Behind dusty windows, there were stacks of dollhouses, all replicas of the larger house attached to the lower workspace. It was formerly owned by a woman who (made dollhouses and) pretty much turned the main house into a large dollhouse. She doesn't own it anymore, but it's still green and pink, and every room is different and decorated with wallpaper. Now, it's filled with my dead flowers and some other things made by my studio mates. I'm sharing the space with two other ladies, Ashley Hester of Esther Jean, who makes hair adornments, and Allison of The Nature of Isa, who makes dresses and gowns.
Every time I put my key in the lock and turn it I have this thought, "Holy shit, this is my very own." Is that something that never passes? I wonder if people who have had shops and studios for over a decade still have this thought. I hope this feeling of gratefulness never goes away.