I've spent the past week shirking my responsibilities-- allowing the dust to settle in corners, the laundry pile to grow-- in favor of filling the pages of an art journal handed to me just before leaving Sarah's house last Saturday. If you had been in her house that pulsates with love and oozes with creativity, you would have felt just as inspired.
It's a house filled with love notes tacked to the wall. Much-loved homemade costumes that put my own past attempts to shame. A faux-wallpapered stairwell infused with hours of late night creating. Books and grandmom's dresser and piles of jewelry and trinkets and projects. Textiles and perfectly worn-in arm chairs.
As Sarah took me room to room, life flowed around us. Her husband made coffee. Their long-limbed teens came to join in conversations before wandering back to their own distractions. We talked like old friends while drinking cup after cup of coffee. Flowers got delivered while she showed my projects, those finished and those in progress. Her daughter played us Weezer on the ukelele. Her son more shyly played a few notes on his trumpet. Meanwhile, her husband looked on with eyes unabashedly filled with love.
It was everything I love in a house. Everything I love in a family.
Since we can't all invite ourselves to their house to craft at their dining room table, I highly recommend you check out Sarah's Instagram @ringosgirl She hosts workshops in different spaces, which is even one better than just following her on the Intenet though. Maybe I'll see you there.