I'm lucky enough to have a kitchen sink that has a window directly over it. I'm able to see right into my yard as well as my neighbor's yard. We are especially vulnerable to each other at this time of year when all of the Michigan vegetation has gone dormant and my gardens have packed it in for the winter.
I don't live in the country with lots of acres around me, and I don't live in a kitschy art community. I live in a fairly typical neighborhood with houses all around me. I don't know most of my neighbors and those I know are very nice but don't really understand my version of art. This is a solid, hardworking community that loves its sports, trimmed lawns, and family. It has been a great place to raise our kids and I am grateful to have had the opportunity to live here.
On the flip side, (yes, I remember vinyl records) I've long felt as though I belong somewhere else. My son goes to the University of Michigan in Ann Arbor. There is a thriving artist community in Ann Arbor and I always feel at home when I visit him. The women wear comfortable shoes and aren't overly concerned with make-up. The men seem to walk everywhere and the bumper stickers always seem to reflect my own point of view. I take art classes in Ann Arbor whenever given the chance and love to spend money in their little galleries and antique stores.
That type of environment comes at a cost though and it will most likely be some time before my husband and I can think about moving in that direction. It can be difficult to work on my art in isolation though and so I strive to make entries into my blog as often as possible in the hopes that someone from the art community will reach out and make contact with me. It would be great to connect with someone who speaks my language!
In the meantime, I will continue to appreciate the kindness of my neighbors, the security of a familiar and safe neighborhood, and the view from my kitchen window.