It is 4:30 AM. It is usual for me to rise early but I am up this early due to an old, crotchety Kelpie. I’ve just made a morning cup of tea, grabbed my laptop and sat down at the large wooden table in my studio space in the dinging room. There is a long, low book shelf to the left and a bright red tool chest containing a plethora of paper and art supplies behind me. A floor easel holding a half finished sheep drawing, with a utility cart full of drawing supplies sitting next to it, is over my shoulder on the right side. An entire book shelf filled with bags of wool stands in the top corner.
The studio scene has long been the work space of a needle felter. The studio table covered in an assortment of wool, felting tools, needle holder, baskets, armature wire and necessary tools, felting pad, and an array of felted animals in various at stages of completion. All of this was tidied while prepping and packing to set up the Felted Flock at a local art gallery. This morning I sit down at a nearly empty work space with a nearly empty creative mind. There are two baskets of wool and three unfinished felted dogs next to the felting pad.
What comes next? In the immediate term I have a couple of felting commissions to complete. Otherwise, I am feeling a pull to just draw and draw and draw; or to draw while I attempt to go further with writing - that feels okay right now too. But, I’m also familiar with how quickly my creative plans change direction, particularly when it comes to writing - the creative endeavour that scares me the most.
And the real sheep flock? Much has changed in the last two years including a steep increase in cost of supplies and fuel, on top of being in drought riddled prairie. Lamb prices meanwhile took a downward turn, meaning keeping a smallish flock for the purpose of lamb production is barely viable. My usual get and up go for raising sheep has dried up along with the prairie. There are just three guardian dogs afoot now and yet I have no desire to add a pup, which I will surely need to do if I keep even the same number of sheep in the future.
My creative world and my working world are tightly aligned in subject and purpose, and have shaped my life into being all about sheep, dogs, prairie, and the profundity of nature. I realize there is a reason here; that this melding of real life with creative is a gift of sorts. I’m just unsure of how best to use the gift now - or scared to perhaps. But, whatever occurs going forward, I want the gift to remain.
It will be daylight in a few hours, the weather is mild for January so the morning walk will be a long one. While I know I should be jumping into commission work, I am content to just sit at this big old table and jot a few more words down on the page.
