Maria at work

   The Studio Barn is on my register of sacred places. Maria and I became friends when she moved into the Studio Barn to do her work as an artist, making quilts and other fiberworks. She would often show up at night, work into the morning.
  Sometimes I brought popcorn over, and we would about art and life, and my photography and writing, and her art. We did not imagine anything more than that, nor did either of us ever think for a moment we would ever get divorced.
  But we did, and here she is, and her we are. And when I stop writing, and take a walk, I often stop into the Studio Barn – nothing but a creative place, built to sell and service farm appliances – and see what the elves there are turning out. Today I heard the humming of the sewing machine and stumbled on the birth of a potholder.