Right now, I’m obsessed. I haven’t been in the studio for days and I miss it, a lot, but right now, my energy is in the other studio: the garden.
A long, long time ago, when I was in grad school studying literature (which I brilliantly deduced was far more marketable than art, my first field of study), I lived in a small house with my partner on the east side of Capitol Hill here in Seattle. These were the days before unregulated greed and the landlord, more than money, wanted renters who would love the place…especially the massive garden he’d put in. Complete with greenhouse, if you can believe. I said, Yes, yes, yes.
So, while studying for doctoral exams and the like, I found myself more and more in the garden, learning how to grow vegetables, all kinda veggies. So beautiful it all seemed that soon I was painting small studies: peas, tomatoes, squash–flowers and leaves and fruit. I was swoonishly in love with the amazing process by which a seed is planted and this miracle happens. I was completely captivated. Far more than studying, alas. And I felt healthier in the garden. I smoked back then, a LOT. And it didn’t escape my attention that I never had the urge to smoke while in the garden, but smoked like a chimney while studying.
Anyway, I wish I had those watercolor studies now, as I recall they were pretty good. I did them as a way to express the experience of the garden that just made my heart thump with happy–and as I recall, that happy showed through.
Well, so here I am again, different garden, same level of ecstasy, maybe more since I’ve taken this garden from winter plan to spring realization, full throttle, no grad studies to distract me. I’m not yet doing watercolors, though I did last season and probably will this season. But for now, I’m a just a flat out goon for what’s happening in the garden, the other studio. This can’t be bad, right?