Embodied Space
On Creating a Space in Which to Create
Hello My Friends!
How did this glorious space become so overwhelming?
I know, we moved and this became an adjunct storage unit, but still…
It all started so simply.
In 2014, a desk, a lovely window, and wondering.1
2016, spreading out - - A basement comes to life with ideas for a book that never gets past this moment.2
2018, digging in. Making room. Loving the light.
Is this what being a creative feels like? I guess I have to fake it till I make it.
Grateful to be in a space close to the garden and without bills and family logistics.
2019 - Restless.
Maybe if I move this here or that there I’ll have what I need…where I need it…
Still figuring this all out…the space…me…the all of it.
One of my compost photographs hangs on the wall though, ready for my first solo show about to open.
Everything shifts during Covid. In February 2021 I need more space…to breathe…
and by February 2022 not much has changed, but there’s more clutter.3
And then came this - - November 2022 - - no longer a basement in earshot of the laundry and domestic demands - - a room with light and space.
A place to call my own.
It didn’t take long. A stage set…
Fingers play in the December light.
January 2023, I start to dance.4
In February I experiment among ferns from a friend and
dance on a sheet wearing my grandmother’s bell-bottom jump suit.
It’s different here, on the third floor, behind a door I can lock, with light pouring in and room to move and space to breathe.
Is this what it means - - to be in the light, feel the light and share the light?
Different fabric & different place, but that light is still there, following me and guiding me forward.
Even with increasing clutter, it beckons.
It’s been a decade since that desk, when words and books dominated…
But now I am consumed by all the stuff tangentially associated with my work.
So I sweep.
And move furniture. And let go of all those bags of packing materials and recycle cardboard boxes waiting for something…
They fill the space. I can not think.
So I sweep some more.
And the corner is still cluttered…
I brought too much from our house…I couldn’t let go of it all…
but it fills the space and I can not think…
and there’s no room to dance.
I want to dance in the light again…
and feel the wholeness of myself in this space that makes me whole.
“I know, mom,” says Lilly. “It’s hard. Can you throw me another stick?”
And I move another piece of furniture…Letting the spirit of the place be my guide.
And I process the compost…on a cloudy day,
patient, continuing to create the spaces I need when and where I need them.
The luxury of this statement does not go unnoticed. I’ve been wrestling with my privilege this entire time…trying to find my voice in the midst of it all.
So grateful to compost, keeping me grounded and reminding me that life is messy.
Do you have a secret to creating the spaces you need?
It’s a moving target, but I’m all in.
Thank you for sharing your time and this space with me.
With gratitude for you being you,
Lyn
And with the generosity of a bucket of compost, please share what you love with the people you love.
And if you happen to be near Newport, NH, check out the current exhibition, Selections 2025, at The Library Arts Center - - I’ve got six images from Meandering Mold there!5
2014 was when I started focusing on the idea of a “Hybrid Life,” that awkward place between knowing what you are supposed to do and feeling trapped by the reality of the moment, like moving to an electric car, but still needing gas because the infrastructure and technology just isn’t there yet. I was reading madly and very caught up in my head, obsessed with this idea of a hybrid life. At the time, though, it was unclear how best to communicate the idea in a way that felt right for me.
It was going to be a ‘recipe’ book for how to live a ‘hybrid life’ and get to the other side. But I wanted it to be too much and at the time, it would have been just another “here’s how to save the planet in 12 steps.” Not what the world needed. It was fun to explore the flow, though, and think about strategies for sharing what I love…and I was just starting to explore me, Lyn, as a photographer…so the book fell away and I let myself lean into my garden and all the images associated with it.
Funny, too: After “A Hybrid Life,” I tried a blog called “Rufus & George” (here’s a link to my reflection last February about these two creatures) whereby I let Rufus and George discuss the different aspects of this mixed reality…but then I realized I wanted to speak for myself…So I created another blog called Ataraxia Gardens, focusing on the garden (I was really inspired by Jennifer Jewell’s emerging podcast Cultivating Place), but the garden ‘genre’ was pretty full…Interesting how one has to keep experimenting to find what’s going to work.
I don’t know about you, but from March 2020 to March 2022, life was a blur, focused on my mother’s increasing debilities, the realities of COVID and my children’s early college trials and tribulations in the midst of it all. The dogs were great companions. It was in March 2022 that I started my Garden Library project…searching for what the earth might teach me that all the books could not (Check out Re-Composing Shakespeare from October 2023 for more on this).
I moved to this studio at AVA Gallery and Art Center after my mother died. I am able to pay the rent, at this point, with a tiny inheritance, which I am not re-investing on the market, but am investing in myself…She came to me as a monarch butterfly on a highway overpass when I was going to sign the lease. I’m pretty sure she’s excited about supporting me with this space and time an exploration.
I am so grateful to be one of the six artists selected from their summer juried show in 2024 to be part of this group exhibition.
I know my clutter is a barrier, that I have put in place. But why have I built this barrier. If I had a friend who had done this, I would offer to help them remove the barrier. Maybe I need to be my own friend and do just that! I think I too, like you now value open spaces more than things.
I can relate. Tend to expand to the space available. Found that most of my space provided storage for things I haven’t used for decades or merely places to dust that no longer functioned for me. My family is fully launched and I live alone. Thought a lot about my space needs and not those of social conventions. Really just wanted a library/studio with adjoining bedroom, kitchen, and a bathroom. Found a place less than half the size of my old one and was able to renovate to my curated needs. Very content here - my first home just for me.