I am very excited to announce the first Bedlam Farm Artists Residence.

Yesterday, I was astonished to learn that we are, for the first time, receiving a tax refund. That’s good news.

The flip side, according to the tax returns, is that I am making less money than ever before, thus the refund.

This is because my work has shifted away from books and more towards this unusual social experiment called the Army Of Good. It’s a happy tradeoff for me, Maria and I are living more simply than ever, and I am managing my money better than ever.

I just schemed and haggled for days to get a new car for less than $300 a month; it turns out. I am no longer the guy who gets all the goodies.

Maria has worked so hard; she is selling just about everything she makes. And her art is shining.

And I am doing better good than ever.

I had this idea this week to give some of this money – it isn’t a lot but a surprise – to Maria for the first-ever Artist’s Residence at Bedlam Farm, a pompous name for a celebration of Maria’s art.

As long as we have been together, Maria has been working hard and long every day and many nights to make and sell her art. I make more money than she does, but she is adamant about contributing to our expenses.

Her fingers are split; she gets cramps in her legs and arms from being hunched over a sewing machine for hours in her studio, which is sometimes hot and sometimes cold, but rarely just right.

She conks out the minute her head hits the pillow, and I feel for her on this frigid winter mornings when she and Fate climb out of bed without complaint and heads out to take care of the animals.

I go with her when there’s no ice. But I’d be lying if I said I was working outside as much as she does.

She is up in her office for hours every week, keeping records, printing labels, stuffing envelopes, and doing the things creative people do that are never seen by outsiders.

On top of that, she carries the burden for most of the farm chores like feeding the animals, tending the gardens, painting the walls,  and making minor repairs, which saves us a ton of money. I do what I can, but as an OMAR – an older man at risk, it is not as much as I would like.

Half the time, she goes to bed exhausted, and she works very long hours to make enough money to do her art and contribute to the farm and to blog and take her photos and videos.

Money is an issue for everybody, especially now, but neither of us gets a paycheck, we have to work every day to keep our lives going. I have no complaints; this is the life I chose; this is the life I love.

So I brought this idea of a very local Artists Residence to Maria. She is the only candidate being considered; I joked that the Bedlam Farm Management Council would have to make the decision – me, the donkeys, the dogs, and the chickens. It was unanimous.

I should empathize that this is not a lot of money, just more than we expected.

It means she can spend some time making what she wants, and not what she needs so much to pay her bills.

I can hardly wait to see what she does, and I will have to wait, she never talks about her art in advance.

For a month, she can go to work every day and let her fantastic imagination fly, and make and sell the things she has always wanted to make but couldn’t afford to make. I want to think of ways to make this unique; I asked if she would come up with some new tools or ideas to make the time seem different.

She isn’t planning to vanish, but to fly creatively. She has a lot of ideas to make, all things she wants to sell but didn’t dare to take the time to work on.

To my surprise, she jumped at the idea, which brings me joy.

It isn’t like she’s taking anybody else’s money, we file joint returns, this is her money as much as mine.  It’s an important step for her to agree with this.

I will take a chunk to further lower the monthly payments for my new Rad4 Toyota to less than $300 a month.

No one ever deserved this opportunity more than she has, and she has told me  a hundred times how she always wanted to get an Artist Residence but never could take the time.

It’s her time. How great.