It wasn't that long ago that I woke up to this every morning. This time last year, each new sunrise would find me in the spot right behind this camera lens angle. Coffee cup in hand, I would sit on the front porch of the Craft House at Penland, taking in these sights, breathing in pristine mountain air. I would read, I would pray, I would journal and prepare for another day in the studio;
another day of creating.
This was the view from the expansive windows of our studio. It was settled right into the mountain below the colorful blanket of autumn-kissed trees where the season unfolded over each slow and full day. Inside its walls, the sound of presses cranking and metal cylinders rolling woke me up from a creative slumber. I was renewed to the possibility of engaging both my hands and my mind in my work.
I'm more than a little nostalgic for this beautiful season in my life, but the memories of this momentary pasture live as I'm shifted to another bright vision.*
* reference to Mary Oliver's, "The Fall Song"
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