Painting in some form or another has always been therapeutic for me.  It was a creative outlet when we lived in my in-laws’ basement while Jeff finished his degree.  It was transformative; a way to put my personal touch on every surface of the three homes we’ve owned over the years.  It was a task that could be completed amid a never-ending routine of monotonous household chores.  It was quiet and slow late-night time alone after a busy day with young boys.  It’s been a place of personal growth and development.  It’s been my go-to for over a decade when I want to create and think.  It’s the perfect mix of productivity and meditation. For this reason, a painting task I procrastinated on through the move turned out to be a gift. One thing that had been on the to-do list before we closed on our house was touching up

I spent a couple of days last week packing up the art studio.  I have to confess that is the hardest room for me to pack.  I started packing in there a few weeks ago as I was selling a couple of large pieces, but I planned on continuing to use the studio, enjoying a few more weeks with it, between packing up the rest of the house.  But, sickness and a broken foot sort of through a stick in the spokes of that plan!  So, last week, I packed up more of the art studio.  While I miss all of my stuff that is now in boxes, I do also love the feel of a clean slate.  The room feels so open, bright, and inviting. I am setting aside things in bins and bags that I’ll want to take with me during our nomadic period.  I do still have