in the kitchen

Yesterday I asked my friend Denise to take a look around the back of my studio with me. I wanted her thoughts on whether I should order new furniture so the room would be better for hosting workshops. I am thinking of doing more in-person workshops in the coming years. I like the energy it brings to the studio.

This back room is a cool space with three tall lab tables from Mount Allison University in Sackville, New Brunswick. When I look at them I think of all the people who met over them, fell in love, or perhaps ruined their experiments and failed chemistry. They are old and sturdy tables, perfect for drawing patterns on. 

I recently built a kitchen in the basement of the studio, maybe even nicer than my kitchen at home. More functional and just lovely. I had not even cooked down there yet but I was already thinking of more improvements. I asked Denise to consider a big change: what about getting one really long low table for the back studio?

We thought about all the possibilities, saw that they could be beautiful, but only possibly better. "It's perfectly fine as it is," she concluded. And I thought, "Darn it, she is right." I was just looking for change and not really caring whether it served me well or not. What I have in my space is cool and functional. If I replace it with something new, it does not mean it will be better. It could be but it is no sure thing.

So we went out to lunch and she told me about her recent visit to Columbia. Me, the armchair traveller, learned that she found it safe and lovely and the people were beautiful. On the way home across the Tantramar Marsh she said to me, "Have you used your kitchen yet?" I told her I hadn't. She said, "Maybe you should start using that and really love it for a while before you make any decisions about anything else. Maybe you are just looking for a next project rather than really needing to change your space." And my head thought...bingo. I was moving on to the next thing before savouring, loving, or even truly feeling what I had already done. 

So human. 

So thoughtless for someone who has a brain. 

That is Denise. She is considerate and thinks things through and she does not mind telling you. We need those friends, the ones who call you on it when they see you going off the rails a bit.

So I cooled my jets and decided to love what is. For a while perhaps, or maybe for a long time. But either way I won't be acting rashly or quickly. I will be taking my time to love what is and to ponder and to play with what I already have. 

Sometime you might come in and find a big long table in the back studio but it won't be this month. This month I will be in the kitchen.