The Collections

As I gaze around my garage studio, my eyes move over elaborate handmade birdhouses; a 1950's pink and grey sewing machine; a six-foot painted "Peace Pole"; vintage Bingo and Scrabble games (with a mysteriously disproportionate number of Ps and Os); a collection of license plates; big bottles of bright beads and buttons; rolls of kraft paper; art quilts; a rainbow of paints and a hodgepodge of paintbrushes; chopsticks, cinnamon sticks and popsicle sticks. All will someday adorn a future project. These supplies are housed in my treasured, antique oak cabinet that many moons ago housed merchandise in an old-fashioned "dry goods store".

Ten months ago, I would walk through the door from my kitchen to my garage and I would be met by a tangle of bikes; two lawnmowers; surplus rolls of toilet paper; empty canning jars; camping gear; recycling bins; and small hand tools sprinkled on every surface like confetti.


My garage slowly transformed into a studio bursting with color and creative energy. As the garage transformed, so did I. Creativity bubbled to the surface as I wiped cobwebs from corners, painted trim, stained concrete floors and hung art. I love my garage studio. I love who I am in my studio.

Now I walk through the door from my kitchen to my studio and my heart lifts, my mind opens and my spirit soars. I am dazzled by colors that I would never dream of using in my living room. Thanks to my patient husband, my studio is bright with newly installed lighting and even brighter when I open the double garage studio door to look upon blooming trees and sparkling sun. Instead of two, I now have three "happy places"; the beautiful island I call home, my garden and now my studio.


The studio glitters, it is magic! A wall separates the spacious bay used for my "studio" from the smaller bay used for the "garage". Standing in the studio, one expects to find more magic on the other side of the wall, much like in the Wizard of Oz.

The Emerald City in the Land of Oz glitters, it is magic! On the other side of the castle wall, one expects to find more magic, for it is here that The Great and Powerful Wizard can be found.

Sadly, in the story, this Great and Powerful Wizard turns out to be a disappointment. He is short, somewhat insecure and not so powerful after all. On the other side of the studio wall, one is similarly disappointed. It is here that the tangle of bikes; two lawn mowers; toilet paper; canning, camping and recycling "stuff" now reside. I fondly call it Oz. Well, maybe not so fondly, but I still call it Oz.

True Magic

My wish for others is that they find a space to transform, then find that the place has transformed them. That really is magic.