It’s been a couple weeks now since I shared my big news about our upcoming move to our off-grid cabin in the woods. In the farmhouse it feels as though not much has changed except that the walls have been stripped of my maximalistic style — art, books, crystals and candles covering every square inch of space — the old Ikea bed is gone and we are sleeping on a mattress on the floor, my hutch that housed my beloved books and remedies has found a new home, many boxes and odds and ends have gone to storage, others await their next destination, everything else is in limbo. Oh and Spencer and I both got to enjoy a bout of the flu for a week in there as well.
Amidst the chaos of decision-making on whether to store, bring with, or donate everything in the house, something spectacular arrived at the cabin last week.
My studio.
a new adventure…
Even when Spencer made his joke about moving to the cabin last January when we were spending an unbooked few days there he said, “well of course, we’d have to put a studio in for you.” Even then I had told him there was no way I’d be able to make that work…
You know what they say, famous last words.
Never did I ever think this would actually become a reality until quite recently. We’ve talked a lot about this little building over the past 6 months. I knew I was excited for it to get here but I did not expect to weep the way I did when I first stepped foot inside. I am overwhelmed with ideas, with potential, like I could see a long stream of creative projects and new opportunities spilling out onto the newly emerging path at my feet.
We have had plenty of moments over the past six months where we have looked at one another and said “we’ll figure it out,” regarding basically every aspect of our lives. There have been plenty of times where I have been eyeballs deep in closeted items and boxes and thought “how are we actually going to live this way?”
But as I was standing inside of this new addition to our lives, it felt like a huge missing piece to the puzzle came into view.
I have loved my workspace in the farmhouse. It is also in the main living area and thoroughfare of our home. This has always had its pros and cons. It has served as my office where I practice homeopathy, something that requires privacy and separateness from my personal life so that I can give my clients the space they need.
Until now, I haven’t been able to see my clients in person, all of my sessions are conducted virtually, which works great for my clients that don’t live near me but also hasn’t allowed me to practice this healing art in a more intimate capacity, something that would give me more energetic information about the souls that step into my field.
My hope is that this new space can serve as both a place for making and a place for healing. For welcoming people into this magical little world that I have created and feel so eager to share with all of you.
Spencer installing our internet…
It is going to take some time and a lot of effort to get this little studio ready even after we move into our off-grid haven. It needs a heat source, ventilation, insulation, walls, and probably more that we haven’t foreseen yet…
Packing, moving, and preparing this place to be livable for two people who run multiple businesses each is no small feat but we are finally getting to a place where never-ending discussions are giving way to becoming a physical reality.
Right now we’re in crunch mode. Lots of big pieces of furniture will be moved this weekend which means plenty of loading up and loading out. After work hours are divided between treks to the cabin and treks to the storage unit.
I am sincerely enjoying the landscape as we shift from lots of warm colors to shorter days and much less foliage up here. A true joy has been the fact that Polaris is set in the middle of a forest containing mostly poplar, birch and maple — much less pine than I’m used to here, but those colors, wow.
One of the hardest parts about this has been the fact that my painting supplies are tucked away during literally the most stunning time of the year here on the North Shore. I am reminding myself daily that even if they were available to use, I wouldn’t have the time to paint anyway. Soon, soon, soon. In the meantime I’m just snapping a ton of photos to come back to later.
Stay tuned, and if you’re not already, hop on my mailing list to receive my newsletter :)
