studio time

The lighting just doesn’t work for me in the summertime, but I love to spend the Winter in the studio, as much as possible. It’s warm, and there’s a teapot.


And there are few other places and tasks calling to me, what with the garden put to bed, the animals sticking close to their shelters, and the pointy-eared troublemakers stashing themselves away in boxes under the woodstove.

Well, when I’m home, anyway, which is less these days, and I’m still adjusting to the new schedule that requires me leaving the nest for town. It certainly makes my time at home all the more precious. I enjoy the work, though, especially now that my own dye station is in the off-season, being out on the landing with no heat. I’ve already had the first dye-freeze, so…


…I come inside to play with everything else. And yes, that’s a floor loom, and no, I don’t weave…yet. It’s on loan from a friend and I’m anxious to expand my fibery bag of tricks in the coming cocoa-cozy months.


My mind-brain is burning with ideas for a sweet little display to bring to the trunk show at Gather Here, and the delicate, luxurious things it will hold. mmmmm.

Does creative work keep you warm, too?


Time Warp

Will you take a misty morning with your tea?

I keep having to remind myself that we have only just landed…our welcome has been so warm and it has been such a seamless slip back into our life in New England and our community of friends. In some ways, it feels as if we never left…that a year and a half could not possibly have come and gone in such a flash. But it wasn’t a flash, really. It was struggle and growth and a shift in perspective. It was opening and learning and realizing our potential. And here we are in gratitude…up on a winding hill in the woods. In Vermont.

The boxes come in from the garage in waves…we need to stack wood, build shelves, try to get the mostly-dead Volvo into the garage for the winter…and the list goes on, but I give myself one little corner of order in my little house of chaos:

If I have a place to serve you dinner, for tea and conversation, for writing a letter…I can maintain sanity.

And here’s where we began…The Boy and I flew from SF to Hartford in the middle of the night, arriving just in time to catch the last farmer’s market of the year. Hot chai for our chilled bones and we knew we were home.

We were also just in time for Halloween and a celebration with good friends. I’m amazed the horn could still stand up after the beating it took on the journey over…shoved under the seats of airplanes, crushed in a backpack, dropped countless times in parking lots…

The mane and tail are handspun and the horn was needlefelted and sewn to an old lamb hood that C wore as a teenager.

Every unicorn needs a rainbow…

And now we are busy hiding our house behind a wall of wood, planning big winter projects and little winter projects…nesting, nesting.

And here is the future home of The Spun Monkey Headquarters…soon to be a working studio, gallery and workshop space…

…just as soon as I can get the propane fired up and some comfy chairs…come buy some yarn at Bazaar Bizarre Boston so I can make it happen!!! (more on that soon)