Layers of Love, Labor and Letter Writing
A journey of restoration, resilience, and connection.
Two days ago, I got the keys to my new studio space and immediately started ripping up a carpet that had been covering what I assume is a 100-year-old hardwood floor. The tearing felt cathartic, like brushing away layers of dead skin. The floor is thick with glue — I estimate another six hours of scraping before I move onto sanding and then lacquering until it is restored.
Yesterday, with bruised knees and sore wrists, I worked for two hours, slowly unearthing the oak beneath. This labor feels like an offering to the space. Every push of the blade is a kiss on the cheek, a gesture of gratitude to the ground where I hope to nurture connection and expansion. The work is slow and patient— a theme I hope to carry forward as I unravel this space, soon to be known as Blue Moon Collective.
