A place of my own…

It was an innocuous question. Thinking back to the places we have called home thus far, Kelley asked, “What do you miss most about each house?” It was an easy question for me to answer. I didn’t miss a thing. There were reasons we have lived everywhere we have lived. There are reasons we moved on. And every place became home.

Because WE lived there.

I didn’t miss a thing. But not so with Kelley.

Not to take a thing away from her love for her family or her passion for life, but there was one place that she really missed. The art studio she had built above a garage. It was full of light. It was indestructible. It was a great place for her children to be creative. It was hers.

We met. We fell in love. We married. And she let me move into her heart space. 2/3’s of what once was her art studio became my place to write. My man cave. I thought I improved the place. I think I actually did. But Kelley is such a generous person that sometimes she gives away pieces of her heart to those who don’t ask and don’t really know what they are taking. So we moved on. I got another place to write. Nothing else would do for her studio.

She got a corner here. A corner there. Things got scattered. Her art got hung on the wall but she never got a place where she could open her heart to her hands and feel life through pencils or paintbrushes.

“I really miss my studio.”

I have loved this woman for nearly 10 years and never once has she asked for something for herself. So today, she gets a studio. And a website.

And maybe someday she share her thoughts right here on her blog. They will be well worth hearing.



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