Thursday, February 17
There is always something magic about stepping into my Dad's studio. Maybe the fact that it is essentially a converted garage, with a stone floor, so that it is always several degrees cooler than the rest of the house. And one steps over a fairly high lintel and then down a stone step as one enters this cool dark room. Gives it a kind of "sacred space" feeling. Plus, although we were raised in an extremely relaxed and loving manner, it was impressed upon us from a very early age, NEVER TOUCH DAD'S TOOLS! So we never did. Still don't, although now I take pictures.