This is my New England barn studio in fall. At times, the distant smell of a wood-burning stove is in the air as the the days grow shorter and cooler. Flocks of Canadian geese fly overhead, and sometimes a blue heron. Recently, two dappled fawns came out of the woods to nibble on fruit that dropped from our apple trees. They did not hurry away when they saw me at the window. The apples were too good to pass up.
As a lifelong teacher, fall has always meant back to school, back to learning. New beginnings. New possibilities. New hopes. Through years of teaching art, I've found that the need to create always seems to bubble up from within. It's something that can be patiently and quietly insistent, or outright demanding. Fear of failure, fear of being too old, fear of not being good enough, fear of making mistakes, fear of the unknown--there are many fears that keep people from honoring the yearning to create from the original self.
This fall, I'm offering a basic drawing course. The spring version of this course taught me that people can do amazing work when they give themselves permission to try, when they welcome their learning as a journey of personal growth, when their drawings are visible markers of their courage, their experimentations, and their commitment to their own creativity. It is amazing to see work that can result when people learn to be patient with their efforts and honor their fledgling attempts at something new.
If this is the season you are considering honoring the artist within, perhaps you'll join this season's class and work at your own pace. Your home studio can be as simple as the corner of a table with a little box of supplies. If there is an artist waiting in you, consider what a creative sanctuary means to you so that you can celebrate that which longs to be expressed.