I have a new space.
It's not big. In fact it's tiny... six feet by twelve. A shoebox or storage cupboard of sorts.
But it's full of natural light, I'm surrounded by artists and it's by the river.
I'm not really sure what I'm going to do in this new space and if I'm really honest there's a little fear behind the scenes.
What if I'm taking creativity out of our home, am I really an artist, can I even call myself that, what if it makes my life complicated when I'm striving for simple, what if I don't produce any work, what if...what if...what if...
I stop and breathe.
I look around as I sit in this new space, sunlight pouring through the window, my girl painting on the floor in between rushing in and out with handfuls of flowers from the garden, friends popping by...
I have always dreamed of having my own studio. A space purely for creating. A space that gives structure to ideas. A space where I don't need to pack everything away so we can eat at the table. A space to let my hands, heart and head wander.
So amongst all the mind chatter I find my heart, the voice of my Wise Robin, and I listen.
This new space feels good and exciting. There's possibility.
For the time being I am happy to sit and be in this new space. Get a feel for it.
...and the rest will follow.
