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Drywall Dust and Dreams

Drywall Dust and Dreams

So, we did a thing. A major thing. The major sort of thing that takes months of planning, endless nights of panic and then even more planning. We moved.


The entire idea started a while back. We had begun to outgrow our current space and decided to look around at other potential locations. (Insert MONTHS of discussion, planning, searching and dare I say, frustration.) Once the building was procured, everything moved along rather quickly. Blueprints were drawn up, demo began, and the long journey of building a new studio was ACTUALLY happening. We felt like we were dreaming. Half the time we were, due to lack of sleep. We were operating business as usual at the old space and the new space was shaping up well. Elation, with a healthy amount of skepticism, was afoot as were contractors. There were late nights and copious amounts of pizza. I cannot express to you my current feelings of absolute disgust towards a paintbrush or drywall dust (but I can tell you it’s lingering, both my disgust and the dust.) I confess, I literally didn’t wash my hair for a solid two weeks, knowing it was going to be covered in grime and paint the next day anyway.


Then, the actual move began. Two solid weeks of lifting, scooting, pallet-jacking and fork-lifting equipment from one end of town to the other. Large axel trucks were rented, muscles were pushed to the limit, and we as a crew, learned more about each other than any of us ever wanted too. There were moments when I wasn’t sure to laugh or cry. But the studio, boy, the studio began to take shape.


Glory holes were put in place, furnaces were put back together, pipe warmers were rearranged. Many times, things went wrong, and tempers rose and fell, but slowly, the kinks were ironed out. New equipment found its way into our current repertoire and the excitement level was at an all time high. Pizza was still being consumed at an alarming rate and late nights were still the norm, but the end was in sight and the energy was infectious.


And then, seemingly, just like that, we were up and running! We had a full furnace of glass, a renter on for the day and classes that evening. The next few weeks have blurred together, as these things tend to do, many more kinks were discovered and ironed out but we have had a glorious amount of wins too. The contractors are slowly fading out of our lives and the dust, while continuing to be pesky, is also beginning to lessen.


The amount of gratitude for this endeavor has not diminished however, as I pull into to work. It’s so lovely to see all the hard work, sweat and tears finally come together into a tangible, living and breathing, gorgeous piece of inspiration. For that’s how the space feels to me. It’s a collaboration piece, brought together by a single vision, and hours of labor, too many nails and screws to count and a dream. One could call it a metaphor…but let’s just call it art.



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