A studio is a sanctuary. A studio is somewhere you can escape to. Escape from the noise, from all the other commitments. The stresses of the world.
Here in a studio, you are able to immerse yourself in inspiration and creativity. It’s a personal space where you can be yourself, enjoy the freedom of taking risks and daydreaming without interruption.
Over the years, this has been what this space has been; Living Wild Studios. These studios were created so I’d a space online to explore my creativity and myself. A safe space where I’d be able to pick up pen and paper, paintbrush and glue and not worry about what was about to pour forth. I felt secure in my ability to explore and learn from it. I’m so grateful for creating these studios for me, first and forth most. But over the years, I’ve grown to love being able to share them with you.
Now that I’ve moved homes after a separation from my husband of nearly 25 years, I’m fixing to created another studio, closer to home, a physical studio to call my own.
Over the years, I’ve tried to create this space through different homes and means. At one time, I had a corner in a sitting room, another time I took over the spare room once the eldest went off to Uni. At another time, I had the privilege of being able to pay for a purpose built studio along a train platform. But that didn’t last.
I’ve lived for the last few years between rooms in a flat as a studio. Always having to move my resources and supplies as the room was needed for something or someone else.
This is my studio as it stands now. Needing a lot of work. But I can see the potential of the space as I attempt to zone it into the different art forms and headspaces I occupy when I create. Of course the bike isn’t staying. It can’t stay. But I think as it stands in the middle of my studio now it’s an indication of how I’ve been treating my creative genes for the past few months. A dumping ground as well as neglected and discarded.
This room will be changing next week. Check back into see the studio take shape and become a working wonderland of curiosity and fun.
It feels an age since I’ve been here. But I’ve been busy. I’m been creating a podcast over at Earth Sea Love.
The Earth Sea Love Podcast is a podcast for and about women of colour and their relationship with nature hosted by Sheree Mack. The Earth Sea Love Podcast is committed to exploring the experiences of women of colour with Mother Nature. We want to provide spaces where the hidden voices in the environmental/ conservation conversations can explore their relationship with the natural world.
Inspired by time spent outdoors, we amplify the voices of women of colour; our stories, conversations, interviews, photography, writing and artwork.
We’ll be exploring our legacies, histories and memories which have had an influence and effect upon how we perceive ourselves within the natural world and environmental/ climate justice movements.
This podcast is funded by the National Lottery Heritage Fund.
we go live tomorrow 13 July 2020. Be ready to listen in on all the major podcast platforms.
behind the scenes
dusty corridors lead to musky back rooms
where cold vats of animal carcasses wait for a steady hand.
2 partridges, a blue jay, a cedar waxwing and a hummingbird
positioned amongst a tangle of blossoms,
wings ever spread, bodies ever ridge,
gathering around a nest,
the wild and exotic brought in close, perching in a domestic setting.
Species preserved through behaviours which made them extinct.
such a colourful display; the fashion for an object of art;
stuffed birds for our delight, for our ever expanding egos.
“ I think deep down we know that our creativity is not just for us. The creative power flows through us and it’s not meant to stop there. We need to keep the faucets open and allow the gift of creativity to circulate, so that it can touch other people. So it can grow beyond our own limited reach. “ Anna Lovind, The Creative Doer
“The joy you feel when doing your work is a gift from life to you. Sharing that work is how you give back.”Anna Lovind
It was late fall and crisp.
Leafless trees were approaching fast.
But a still a few had tongues enough
to whisper; orange, yellow and red jazz
through the swinging door.
Inside the air was close and smoky.
Eyes closed, heads dropping into
their drinks, bodies swayed to the beat.
I blew into the bottom of glasses,
wiped and placed back onto shelves.
I caught her in the mirror, just her back
just as she was leaving the stage.
Her white gown flowing.
Wilted gardenia petals around the mike.