Maria’s studio was once a one-room schoolhouse up the road in Shushan, New York. We think we can trace it back to 1801. The former owners of the farmhouse moved it down the road to our farm to serve as a tool shed and workshop.
When we moved, renovating the space as a studio had top priority. Otherwise, we wouldn’t have come here.
We knew Maria would love it as a workshop, and I took over the parlor in the main house as my writing space. It was a top priority; we each had to have our own place.
One of the reasons we have stayed so close to one another, I think, is that we make sure to have some time apart.
We wouldn’t move in until the holes in the wall were patched, the raccoons had moved, and there was no heat or electricity in the building. There would be no peace in our new home if she didn’t have her own space.
The studio was a shambles. When it was done, she named it the Schoolhouse Studio.
The studio has held up beautifully since the repairs. It is just a few feet from the house but is private and feels tucked away in a forest. It has a new and safe electrical system, and it also has Wi-Fi.
Maria and I painted it yellow, and she does most of the necessary repairs herself. The roof doesn’t leak, and except for the bitterest winter days, it’s warm enough for her to work (there’s some baseboard heating.)
When it gets this hot, Maria puts a small air conditioner in a window, and in the winter, she puts storm windows up. We still have mice and other critters living below the studio, but with rare exceptions, they stay away. It helps to have dogs in the studio.
The studio is important to us for obvious reasons – Maria needs a private space to work and keep our relationship strong. If we were both living in the same creative space all day, that would be a strain.
I need my creative privacy too. It’s a small farmhouse, but we have everything we need.
Over the nine years we’ve been here, the trees have grown around the studio, enveloping it in an almost mystical way. At night, lit up from inside, it looks like some elfin cottage out of a Disney movie.
Maria loves it, and I love seeing what it means to her. She is completely at ease in there, a place to think, work and cry if she needs to. I rarely go in there; I wait until lunch or call or text her if I want to communicate.
She’s done a lot of creative work in there; it has been good to her. It has creativity etched into the walls, now nine years worth. So does my office.
Walking through the backyard this morning, I look across at the studio and saw how beautifully it fit into our lives.
Maria came of age as an artist in that studio; it gave her space to grow, think, and experiment.
This small space has been serving human beings for centuries, teaching them, sheltering them, holding their tools, helping to make quilts and fiber art and potholders, helping us live our lives.
This space is full of meaning and history. So does my parlor, my office, where the residents were laid out when they died, and where visitors and the pastor came once a week for tea and a spiritual talk.
This is where we both came home. This is where I plan to end my days on this earth; this is where Maria will stay on and do her work. I never thought I’d come home. I won’t ever leave, not unless I’m being carried.
I love this Jon, it’s as if the trees have formed a protective hug around Maria’s studio. The two of you have both come home to your rightful place.
Very good point.
Glorious photo Jon.. Love the beautiful Maria quilt floating peacefully .. you are both living the dream ?
Jon…
Deep thoughts grow in quiet places. We’re fortunate to have such places.
It’s not so much about a location’s physical attributes. But it must be quiet and free of unwanted distractions. From there, it takes the individual’s transformation to a productive state of mind.
Maria’s detached studio appears very suitable for her work. None of our residential rooms would have accommodated the needed work spaces (business and operational), the equipment, and the material storage. These would have required us to rent office space.
Since we’ve downsized our housing, my office/den is my thinking place. During my wage-earning years, this room became my “Work from Home” office. In here, the company installed a private network connection and an Internet phone line. While working, I closed the door and exited only during breaks. Hours could be strange; especially, the early morning project calls with Australia. (But the Aussies also had problems with their sleep schedules.)
Everywhere we’ve lived, there has been such a room. It never had TV or radio. The laptop stays in there. I know that, when I enter this room, it’s “all business.”
We moved to our “new” farm, big red barn in place, so that I could have the things I need to be creative (much like the both of you). We are at the *very* beginning stages of righting the barn for my creative space, and as always, your perspective gives me renewed hope & determination. Thanks once again, Jon & Maria?
Congratulations Birdie, you are wise and will be happy, I am sure..Good luck..
I love this SO much! Maria is a true artist. I love her stories behind each and every piece she makes. Her soul is in each piece and reflected. Her little Schoolhouse Studio is just the bestest kind of place. I am so happy she has that space and happy you have your space. I believe the best marriages are made with mutual respect and with allowances for individual spaces. I hope you both continue to find your joy in your spaces and continue to bless us with your art and writings.