In a sense, the whole farmhouse is an art gallery, every corner, wall, and windowsill. I look up and something is always different, always new, or moved around, or brought back from hiding.

On the left is one of Maria’s earliest hanging pieces, one of her first goddesses. On the right is something I bought in Provincetown, Mass, a cross named “Rachel” made out of painted driftwood, it’s one of my favorite pieces of art.