a Dark Hallway threatens
on transitions + patchwork
“Pop, pop, pop,” as I step into the dark, empty expanse the lights flick on above me. I am in the industrial building where I have rented a work space. As I walk, the darkness is flooded with light that bounces off the white walls. There are no other sounds besides the squeaking of my wet boots. No faces. I am the only one on this floor of the building this Sunday afternoon.
I reach for my phone as I near the door to my studio, to unlock the door with an app. I have no keys for my office, and I just gave up the keys to our old home. Now I have just two keys: one for my bicycle and one for my boyfriend’s house. A shortage of keys is also a reduction of responsibility, but today it feels like too little.
I shut the door behind me as the lights of my studio spring on. All the lights in this building are by motion sensor. Convenient, until I realize that they cannot be turned off in order to take natural-light photographs. Convenient, until the lights fall out while I sit at my desk typing. Convenient, until I feel compelled to return to the door and lock it behind me. The dark hallway in this empty building threatens.
TODAY’S STITCHED IN COLOR IS BROUGHT TO YOU BY~
Purple Stitches
Needing a creativity reboot? Want to sew uninterrupted without the worry of day-to-day chores? Longing to sew with like-minded people? Wait no further—come and join Purple Stitches for a bag-making retreat in Shepperton, UK.
Yesterday I came to “work” in this building for the first time on the weekend. Elora was with her father. I used to love to steal away to my sewing room at opportune moments. I long for that feeling to return. For the work feeling to seep away, making room for restoration and self-care. I wonder if that can happen here. I hope.
I did manage to sew some blocks. I didn’t regret coming. But, I still have a long way to go in navigating this transition. I feel unmoored from home, from being settled and strong. I can’t envision where I will be living and working a year from now, which feels so deeply unnerving.
Time and time again I have experienced a fresh start as a blank canvas, something to fill exuberantly with color and possibility. Dreaming, doing, exploring - that is so me, right? So Rachel. But first, I must find the faith and the hope to start over again. To choose a path and to believe.
Rachel you are a strong woman with a heart of a lion. You have crossed oceans, set yourself to become a citizen of the Netherlands. This move has many strange feelings but they are nothing you can’t overcome. Maybe you need a workshop day there. Being the only one in the building is obviously a little unsettling. Play your favourite music. Pop some lamps in strategic areas. If this is home for only a year it doesn’t matter. We have moved so many times I do appreciate the issues you are facing. You have been able to work from home for a good amount of time. This is different but it could be good. Is there space to set up a corner for your daughter. A sofa, a nice rug, table and chair? Small fridge if room , if so that would allow you both to go sometimes. Hold your head up, you can and will succeed here. The quilting and fabric will wrap their security and love around you. I’m sure your new man could even come along and read on the sofa 😅. Merry Christmas to you and your family.
Sue x
Hello...I am a faithful blog reader of yours. I only know what I have gathered from reading your blog, but felt sad when you said you have two keys ---bicycle and boyfriends house --- I am understanding that is now your home too! Hoping that your studio is a walk or bike from your home?!?! That way you will have some nice exercise and head clearing time for yourself as you come and go from your studio. Looking forward to seeing pictures of your studio when you get it all fixed up. Hoping it will become a comfy home away from home for you. You are amazing and I admire you!