Earlier this month, I had the great good fortune of spending a whole entire week away from home at an artist colony on a lake in Western Maine.
I had the most charming little cottage all to myself.
I shared the property with four other artists (including our hostess), each of whom had her own cottage, spaced far enough apart from each other that we only saw each other when we wanted to.
Each cottage was sweet and unique, and I'm quite sure each of us believed she had the very best one (but in my case it was true).
Mine was named Viking Court, and I'm pretty sure The Three Bears moved back in after I swept it out and went on my way.
Inside it had the most amazing array of patterns—tile and wallpaper and linoleum and window panes. I couldn't stop taking pictures of the intersections of light and pattern.
Even the giant spider webs under the eaves made beautiful patterns.
I also painted wildflowers and mushrooms and visited the big chestnut tree and went on a tramp with a friend who led a group of land trust docents and swam in the lake every day. I was extra-lucky to have been awarded a week of beautiful sunny weather sandwiched between two rainy weeks.
I got some work done, too—a full revision of my entire manuscript (handwritten changes on a very thick printout). A lot of work remains to be done (I filled seven pages with notes of things to research), but I feel good about what I accomplished and ready to move on to the next step.
Every day I had a moment where I thought, "E and Z's bus will be here soon…" or "I have to go pick up M from cross country…" or "Is there a soccer game today…" or "It's time to start dinner…" and then I realized…no. I don't have to do anything or go anywhere. I'm not responsible for anyone.
Two weeks have gone by since I left and I'm having trouble believing I ever really was there.
I hope the Three Bears are happy to have it back.
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