This is really hard for me—being here on my White-Space Project blog.

I started it with a set of intentions, and because those intentions look drastically different from my assumptions, I feel as if I failed.

Did I fail?

Or did I succeed at a level I hadn’t allowed myself to envision?

Please, God, let it be the latter.

I’ve officially moved out of my home studio and into my new building that is called Homestead Art & Studio

In my home studio, there is no longer a vast collection of watercolor paint tubes and all the palettes with remnants of colors I never quite bonded with have been moved over to my new studio building. Gone are the brushes, assorted masking tapes, sketches, and my library full of art books for adults and kids. I’ve moved out nearly everything art related, only leaving the beautiful shelves and desk behind.

It’s sad. It really is hard to leave it.

I have memories of my kids sitting in the room with me while I painted and of the countless conversations I had with them. I hold dear to me those moments when I talked with my newly-acquired Zoom friends during the pandemic. It was all in this room.

It’s where I launched my website.

It’s where I produced hundreds of paintings.

It’s where I first started teaching online.

It’s where my heart and soul dwelled.

This morning, my husband spotted it—an office for him to work from home. I knew it wouldn’t take long for him to see its potential. It’s his space now. All conversations in the “office” will now consist of numbers and incredibly boring video calls about products and finances.

I feel sorry for the walls in my old space. Will they adjust to their new purpose? Will they miss me?

I watched my husband set up his computers and mess around with cord-management options. He looked happy, and I was happy for him. I told him he can move his John Deere tractor collection onto those shelves. It’s all his now. It’s no longer mine.

And as I saw him sit in my old chair, adjusting the height from my perfect spot to his perfect spot, I said one last thing.

“This is really hard for me.”

“Why?” he asked.

“Everything started here.”

Then I closed the double french doors, symbolically closing the doors to past chapter in my life.

Wishing you acceptance as you evolve,

Sharon