{ working in the hive }

A Snap Shot:

   At the Hive ... (our new studio, a vintage trailer with some upkeep demons to exercise..) We're nearing the post-paint era (juwels is just finishing up the first of two coats in the front room ((she's painting each section different, flowing color schemes from room to room: "Wild Sage" to "Almond Latte" to "Ashen Plum" and on .. - a multi - layered depth of varying shades from eastern Europe all the way to the purple veins of a taro root. )))

   She's in the doorway of the kitchen now, where I have the computer setup on an old sewing table. An antique piece we recently glued back together after buying it in broken sections at a yard sale over a year ago.

   Her wide, wet paint brush, coming in over the scales of Schubert, sounds like the rough tongue of a very large cat, licking and grooming, coarse, rich and methodical. 


   I'm covered in dust and insulation fibers - writing with healing hands. The right hand, always on the front line, is riddled with splinters of red wood and dry-rot pine. An off-center stigmata puncture on my palm, cracks, splits and reseals again and again. And I have a straight razor slash Super Glued shut on my pointer (this glue job works really well on a straight cut ... just leave a little opening at either end - should it need to drain or ooze. Better, cheaper and quicker than stitches.)

   It's so beautiful and lush and exact in this kitchen right now. Juwels put the finishing touches on it while I was backpacking around Los Angeles. Paint, plants (everywhere) - the polished double stainless sink which we pulled from a dumpster, now installed and flowing. Our salvaged counter top tiles, sealed and smoothed like time-hardened petrified wood, and the smell and grime of the past renter replaced by steeping cups of Chinese herbal tea, Myers cleaning products, and the exhale and laughter of happy house plants.   

   Crazy work - work for the crazy: eccentrics with a strong sense of the present moment and a healthy disregard for ... future, gain, tomorrow.   Breathe.

   We're now, building as if for life ... a studio space on a property that we already know is destined to be sold. But it could be a long, long while, and we're growing our building skills and sharpening our edge on the hard cold stone of idealism. Not for the faint of heart ... it takes a strong back and a good sense of humor - when the thumb goes purple under the weight of the hammer ... again. It's a false idea that freedom is free, or easy, or manageable ... this life is not setup for it. The paths aren't well lit - paved - policed - licensed or insured against pitfalls or wild animals. But what's the alternative for the non-linear zig-zag minds??

   But more on that later - we're loving it. Turning doorways to windows, strengthening floor beams and transforming all that is dirty white to Spring meets Summers meets Fall. We're going to have such a good time here, in the country. Haven't made up my mind on the large black spiders we've been seeing here and there, or the dozens of wasps who've begun building their summer home on the eve, but it's a symphony of crickets by night and a welcome aerial chatter of bird song by day. And sun,-sun, sun. Blue skies and sun ... our old place, the Roost, didn't have a single window, but luckily two white skylights. We've loved that loft on 555 Blackbird Roost, but this is so much more our style ; ) 

   I'll try and upload a few pics here (but not too much : ) if the slow USB Net allows, but I should really get back to work ; ) A few minutes ago, the small rolling vacuum overturned, prompting my flight into the kitchen for a swig of pulpy apple juice from the jug and a few bits of buffalo jerky. The dust must have settled by now, so back at it ; )

   Can't wait for the Online Open House, when she's all decked out. By the way, all our belongings are piled on an uncovered 28 foot trailer in the yard. And the guy who loaned it to us is hot to tow it back out of here, empty, but we need to build our honey comb before we fill the golden cells with the tools of our trade ; )  

    Wet paint & wash bins,

 loVe,

 -p&j