My big news, which I’ve actually known since February, is that I’m going to move my studio. My studio-mates who own the building I’ve been in for over 10 years are building studios at their home and selling the studio. For a while my husband and I were looking at buying the building and keeping it as artist studios. But, unfortunately, the numbers just didn’t pencil out and it would have been a money-losing venture. It just doesn’t make financial sense. We found out right before we left for Burning Man that it wasn’t going to work out. I was sad but at least it was settled after seven months of being in limbo.

I’ve been pretty anxious about moving my studio because I don’t do change well. I’m relearning that I need a lot of security to be creative. So much of what I’m able to do is because my wonderful husband is there to support me–financially, sure, but also emotionally. Without going in to detail, I had a pretty difficult home life as a kid. Even though I’ve done my therapy and don’t like to dwell on the past, it’s still part of who I am. And having my safe and secure little studio taken away has shaken me up and taken me back to that little girl growing up without stability or control.

It’s a difficult place to make art from. The good thing is that I’ve been able to recognize these connections to my past and that takes away some of the anxiety. Going to Burning Man was really good for me, too. It’s was inspiring to see large-scale and ambitious artworks come to fruition in that harsh and unforgiving environment. I was also inspired by the open hearts and minds of the community of Burners. And the desert gave me the mental space to put things into perspective.

I came back to Seattle motivated to find a new space. It feels good to take control of my environment. To refine what it is that I need and want in a space to create. And to have Faith that it’s out there. When I would talk to friends about what was happening they often said things like, “Change is good,” and, “It’s all happening for a reason,” and other annoying West Coast platitudes. Yes, all that is true but it didn’t help me feel any better at the time.

Now I’m taking this time of change to open up my work, to expand my process, to experiment and mess around, to explore without the pressure of deadlines or a show coming up. I don’t have to be perfect and neither does my work. I do have Faith, now, that this change is positive, an opportunity to grow as an artist and as a person, to push myself past the safety zone. I can brave the center of the Char Wash, an art installation at Burning Man, with flame throwers spinning around me and not get burned.

Perhaps my next space will be a perfect place to work. Or maybe not. But whichever way, I can always make a change.