it's a wovensunshine kinda place

March 28, 2011. I’m trying on a new theme. Everything is exactly where you left it (mostly) — just felt like a change. Cheers!

Sweetpea & Siddhartha-Peace Begins at Home. Christmas time 2006.

Music fanatic, artist, biologist, anthropologist, photographer, knitter, cat’s pet and dogs’ owner, somewhat reformed nomad, inhabitant of old houses, pathetic but avid gardener, pun creator, pun moaner, reader, writer—and ardent Red Sox fan.  (Having a conversation with Sky on the virtues of working in the art studio versus going on yet another walk. October 2008)

Wildlands is the name of my house and surrounding gardens. A huge old fig tree provides shade to the back deck, around the side of the studio. Lots of growing vines, passionfruit and morning glories. There is a great feeling about this place whether curled up in front of the fire place, out back sitting at the long plank table next to the fire pit, or padding up the stairs to the studio to make something.

I spend a good deal of time using objects to craft items for loved ones that incorporate another time. I am far more inspired here than I have been in other places. Maybe because Wildlands is mine and it was a home long before I inhabitated it.

I’ve lived here since the fall of 2004—I know where the floors squeak and find comfort in those noises. I moved in the week the Red Sox won the World Series. I didn’t have cable, so I listened to the games on the radio. There are moments still, while putzing around, I stop and grin when I remember that week. Who ever thought I’d settle down, buy a house, AND the BoSox win the Series—all in the same week? Incredible. Ha.

Due to restlessness, I sometimes find myself waking up and walking around the house in the middle of the night. I ask myself the questions that I imagine most people do when they can’t sleep at night.

When I don’t find the answers I’m seeking, I ponder who may have lived here before me and the events they saw in their lifetime. In those quiet moments here, I find great comfort knowing that since 1923, people have been comin’ and going through that lovely front door, living through the painful moments, sharing great joy. As friends and loved ones continue to come and go, they leave their imprint here, adding new life to this old home.

Ultimately, each person’s story is the same—we are born and we die. What we do inbetween is up to us…

Big ole clump of Labrador love (Sky Harbor sleeping on Siddhartha). May 7, 2009

All images (except the header) on It’s a WovenSunshine Kinda Place are my own (unless otherwise noted); they are copywrited, and may only be used with my permission. If you have a question or comment, well, leave a comment or email me: wovensunshine at gmail.com. Thanks.