The Windowsill Gallery is one of the sweetest traditions on our farm, it was created two years ago after we moved in. For Maria, art is not bounded only by the fiberworks she creates, it envelops and reflects  the whole world, our home, he farm, the animals and the woods, me and my work. She sees life as a whole work of art, a kind of gallery. She is a curator. Everywhere she goes, she finds way to add color and light and art – and love – to our world here.

When we moved in, the farmhouse was anything but bright and open, but the gallery helped make it so from the first. She has since waved her want over every room, every wall, every windowsill.

So I named the Windowsill Gallery, and in keeping with my own ideas about creativity, starting putting photos of it up on my blog. It is different all the time.

Our windowsills were old and rotting, they were drab before we got to fix them up. Rocks and crystals from our works began to appear, old vases, necklaces and colored glass, flowers and plants, small sculptures. Maria curated these sills in the literal sense,  studying the spaces and the light, moving and re-arranging objects, adjusting to light and seasons. And consistently ignoring my suggestions, ideas or complaints.

I could take the exhibits or I could leave them. But I wasn’t in charge of them. This works for me.

So the windowsill gallery became our own kind of museum, with exhibits coming and going. It is almost never the same two days in a row. The odd thing is that I almost never see her change the exhibits, nor does she ever explain why she puts things where she puts them.

But I have the wonderful sense of being in a living museum, with a skilled and imaginative curator. For us, there is no boundary between our work and our art and our life. I think this is a tulip, it last only two days in the gallery, but I was touched by its radiance and message of  hope and light.