Words from a new home

Meandering thoughts on what it means to commit to the unknown...

Sweetbush + Narcissus friends at our new home

Good morning dear readers, thank you so much for being here. I am writing to you from a new kitchen counter, in a new-to-me home. My husband and pup and I have been trying out rural living all winter in the Allegheny mountains of Highland County, Virginia. We are renting our home out in Richmond city, and needed a spot to land for at least one more month until our home is open again. Finding rentals out in rural areas with less housing is very challenging, especially furnished rentals. We really lucked out with our winter home, renting from friends who had no plans of being in the house all through the winter months. It felt mutually beneficial for us to be there, keeping the house lived in and cared for.

Now we have lucked out yet again through the kind connection of our neighbors, by moving just down the road, still close to the same magical caves and mountains and riverways. We are now in an old farm house that is owned by some sweet folks living in other parts of Virginia. Different house, different land, but same beautiful feeling of peace, bird song and dappled light amongst the trees. There are some incredible old trees on this farm, and a pond dotted with narcissus flowers and honeysuckle. We have a resident whippoorwill that sings loudly every night alongside the peepers peeping from the creek bed near the pond, and occasionally an owl chimes in too.

As I mentioned in my last newsletter, last month was sort of a whirlwind time. I never really had a moment to sit down and drop in and write to you all. It felt like I was constantly bouncing from one spot to the next, with a lot of teaching, pet sitting, house-moving-preoccupation taking my attention.

It’s been an interesting experiment to live so lightly this year and to really lean into the unknown. To bounce with our little family from one home to the next, ironically in search of some new grounding to commit to. In our experiment of rural living, we have uncovered that we truly love it, and that we are indeed ready to make a more permanent jump to these mountains. We’ve wobbled for many years on whether this would be the right thing for us. My husband and I both love community and people. We love the cultural offerings and diversity that a city offers. The ease of not getting in your car to go somewhere. But what we didn’t know before trying this alternative path out was that we also love not going anywhere and just being at home. We love learning the trees and plants growing around us and realizing that they are a form of community and connection too. We sleep better in the quiet deep dark of the night. We have a handful of friends out this way that we love and get to spend time with when we choose to. It may not be as often as we could do so in the city, but something about the balance between the solitude and the socializing feels more centered to my nervous system. I feel like in the city I was operating on a low level of anxiety all of the time, I just didn’t know it until I could feel the contrast by removing myself from it. I feel how calm I can get here in a way I could have never known in a city. The calm I feel here is fed by time in the woods, in quiet solitude. It is fed by watching hawks fly across the sky, or walking next to the running river and being soothed by the constant streaming love song between water and rocks. It is fed by having more time in my days to pursue new hobbies- herbalism and taking violin lessons, cooking longer meals, lounging in the sunrises and sunsets, paying attention. I feel more calm because I am mirrored the calm around me in nature, existing at all times.

Great trees + pond

All of this has been opened up because we set out on a path unknown, and stayed open to what may come. Committing to the unknown, not really knowing where we are going, but staying open, has been such a gift. Sure it has had its challenges, and yes my family and I have a lot of privilege in having the ability to move freely and not have many obligations holding us in one physical space. Overall, I can say that my relationship to the future has changed drastically due to letting go of needing to know it. Something about being in the discovery, awake every day to what truly moves me, has reshaped pieces of me. I feel safer in knowing that I do not know. I feel myself being led into quieter and more magical directions. I feel my body feeling more rooted, more calm, despite the lack of solidity of place.

We don’t have it all figured out, but something that feels very true in this season of life, is that we need to find our peace and commit to our joy. The world, especially here in the US, is intense and full of forces trying to take those things away from us. We need to take care of ourselves so that we can nurture and care for others. I am realizing that in this season, caring for ourselves looks like caring for this land, and remaining patient and hopeful. Creating relationships with the trees and the forest and the streams and the ponds. Watching the little bird make a nest near the house. Surrendering to a slower timeline that feels rich with wonder and space to breathe. It is truly a remembering. A coming back home to the rhythms of nature in a felt way.

And so, we are nestled into this next home, not knowing yet where it will take us, but having some ideas on steps to take. Selling our wonderful home in the city, finding a spot to root down here in these mountains, and offering a space of nourishing retreat to friends and family who come stay with us.

A butterfly wing found on my walk

There is a lot of creative potential in these hills. They’ve been calling to us for years now as we have continuously made trips out to visit friends out here, and it feels right on time that we are answering that call more committedly now.

While I’ve been in shuffle mode, I haven’t been making as much art. It’s been hard to create the space needed mentally and energetically when so much around my basic needs needed tending to. I got to attend my first in-person herbalism class with Twin Star in Asheville a couple of weeks ago, and was fed so much inspiration after spending time together with the plants. I have a fountain of subjects and ideas I want to paint next. And, I am hopeful as I nestle more into this new home, the time will come that leads to more dear creative space.

I’ve been thinking a lot about the creative process and how it really likes to play and take its time. We cannot put forced timelines or limitations on it, or else the inspiration dies. And so finding that balance of open space, and committing to it, making sure it knows it can take its time, is key.

I’ll be sharing more about upcoming projects in the coming weeks. So much is blooming right now it’s hard to not want to try to capture it all at once, but I will heed the call to slow down and take my time. I do feel my best work has been made when I don’t give myself hard deadlines and when I allow myself to fall in love with the subject just as it is.

Spring is a season of change and new birth. I am definitely feeling that in so many ways in my life, and changing homes is a major one.

How is transition, transformation and new seasonal growth showing up in your life? I would love to hear about the paths you are traversing, the new homes you are creating, the fresh ideas that are percolating…

Thank you for reading through this ramble of thoughts. It is such a gift to have this space to share my reflections around art and living slowly with you all.

A glorious sunrise as we left our last home and moved onto our next

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Upcoming Events + New Works…

Field + Supply Spring Market

I’ll be taking part as a vendor in Field + Supply’s Spring Market up in Kingston, NY the last weekend of May! New York friends- come on out and say hey! It is a fantastic market with so many beautiful makers selling their wares. I’ll be set up alongside my friend Becca of Thicket Jewelry. I’ll have both prints and cards for sale, as well as a few framed original paintings.

Mothers Day Sale

I am currently having a sale in my online print shop! You can take 15% off any order with the code LOVEMOM used at checkout, now through May 12th.

New Work Coming Soon

While I haven’t had the most time to be in my studio, I did carve out enough space to make this new tomato painting for The Village Garden’s Summer Supper Somm Series. This piece will be shared on their poster for the event (which you can purchase!), and will also be available as a print in my webshop with a portion of the profit going to support SCAN, an organization out of Richmond that the Summer Supper Somm series raises money to benefit.

If interested in purchasing tickets to one of their incredible tomato-driven dinners, stay tuned!

Finished Tomato Painting for Summer Supper Somm

Workshops

While I don’t have any workshops currently on the calendar, I so enjoyed collaborating and teaching alongside Brennan and am putting the call out for more opportunities to collaborate! If you have a space or venue and would like to talk more about what hosting a workshop together could look like, please reach out.

Anima Mundi Partnership

I am now a partner affiliate for Anima Mundi Apothecary, one of my very favorite herbal companies. I’ll be sharing more around my favorite products from them in the future, but for now I’ll just pass along that you can take 15% off any order with the code MOLLY15 at checkout.

Sending love on whippoorwill song to you all. xx