I am making progress with organizing my life in my new home. I have reached the point where I spent a bit of time actually stitching in the studio.
Quite frankly, it felt a bit odd. It's been a long time, and setting up the machine, etc., took a bit of cognitive attention rather than just being routine.
The studio is nearly complete at this point. I still have to figure out how to make my design wall in this space, so for the moment I just clipped up a flannel sheet to pin things onto. This is an as-yet unnamed project I was working on when I shut down the studio back in June. Now that it's up on the wall I have something to look at and ruminate over.
This is far and away the nicest studio space and configuration I've ever had. In other studio incarnations, I was coping with limitations and making things work regardless. Here, I've got my dream space, or close enough, and all my carefully curated stuff readily accessible. It's almost intimidating. I'm dealing with a combination of imposter syndrome and a disinclination to make a big creative mess. The cure for that is to get to work, so I'm trying to wind down the moving-in chores so I can focus on art again.
To that end, I emptied the last of the boxes, found a recycling center, and got them out of here. That was a big relief.
And I'm finally back on my bike, in my happy place. I'm near a leg of the Montour trail, which is a converted railroad bed. This section winds through suburbia, so it's not a wild ride, but it is nice and flat, and that's what I need while I regain conditioning. And it has all the familiar wild plants I know and love all along it.
And I found a few local farmer's markets, not grand in scale but with good vendors that have what I crave, like Red Haven peaches. And while it feels odd not to have my own flowers to cut, a bouquet from the market makes me happy.
And there are food trucks, like this one where I got an amazing lobster roll.
So bit by bit, I am building my new normal. It feels good.