I hear my train a comin'

My first studio space. I come here to make art and to be my true self. I see and feel the materials move from loose beads to wearable art and I envision what blank paper can become as I meticulously fill it with dots and lines of vibrant color (more on this series later). 

My visual senses are not alone, as my olfactory sense is often satisfied by the work of the artist in the adjacent studio who makes soap and candles.

Sometimes I work without music because there are train tracks right outside my window. My own rhythm is is accompanied by a rumble and the rhythm of  wheels clacking over sleepers and screeching against rails.  The commuter and cargo trains often remind me to stop and look, to give thanks for nearby travelers, to honor that food and goods must come from somewhere, to remember that I am on a journey.