The Post-Menopausal Artist Moves to Miami

Young women hear about menopause and they wonder how it will affect them.  The perimenopausal among us complain about an array of symptoms that they experience or expect to experience.  I know that I certainly blamed menopause for a whole range of things that were in one way or another related to my age at the time.  What I never expected was an enormous burst of energy that helped me cope with what was happening to me in my own life then and which has allowed me the opportunity to carry on after my husband's death and thrive.  Is it hormonal?  I believe so.  Because menopause comes at a crossroad in our lives.  Our  grown children move away. In addition, in my case, my husband died and I was left with this life to live on my own and a major lust for life that I never expected without him.

I hosted a thousand people in two states for the weddings of my four children by myself.  I sold my house in New York and moved to Miami by myself.  In fact, I spent the last night in the old house on a mattress in the floor of the bedroom I had shared with my husband in the company of my dog and two cats!  At 3am I woke up in the cavernous house and thought it was time.  My belonging were already en route to Miami and I decided that I needed to drive with my dog rather than fly.  I needed to be actively leaving.  Physically, emotionally and spiritually leaving that house which had housed us all and gave us so much pleasure. I loaded my overnight bag in the car in addition to a few odds and ends that had remained and with the dog as my only company, I drove to my new destination while it was still dark out.

When I was crossing the George Washington Bridge, I turned on the radio and one of those evangelical types told me "you are going to your future, it will be everything you want it to be" and on and on he spoke... directly to me.  It was spooky!  South and down we went Ume and I only stopping for a few hours of sleep in a dog friendly motel on our way. I was never sleepy and like anyone who's driven down 95 to Florida will confirm with few distractions apart from the famous signs of the "South of the Border" complex.

We made it to Miami the next day in the afternoon. I managed to avoid speeding tickets and the car worked like a dream. My energy needed to be and was boundless.

After settling down in my new home I started painting. And you know what?  I couldn't stop!  I had no idea how to paint so I signed up for classes in acrylics.  Took one class with a lovely lady in Coconut Grove and was inspired to just go home and paint. Then came the jewelry making and recently the "Shibori" which I talk about in another part of this blog.

Its that energy again.  That creative energy that pulls me out of my shell and reminds me that I am not alone. I am on my own. I'm in good company.

The post-menopausal artist with her grand-daughter Lily

Boo Boo and Coco have to be in on the Shibori action. They are my greatest fans! They hang out nearby to check out the latest product

I can do magic!!!

Cushion covers, scarves, bedspreads, oh my!

I've always thought of myself as a bit of a witch. My mother was one and I think I inherited some of her skills. It is no wonder that I like Shibori! I combine potions...put them in a big pot, throw in a few things here and there, stir it all around, dip fabric and then comes the magic! Oh yes, it may not be a design that I necessarily had in mind but believe me, its always magic.

Shibori - Japanese art of tie-dyeing...for adults!

No doubt about it. I have a definite addictive streak. Have always loved 'blue and white." From dishes, cups, saucers to textiles, anyone who's been to my house has noticed my predilection for this particular color coordination. In Tokyo I was in heaven. It was everywhere. A major fan of my friend Amy Katoh's little store in Azabu Juban called "Blue and White" - a shop that demanded my weekly visit to check out what else she could come up with for me to love. And she never disappointed. Amy understands the crafts of Japan. She has a knack for making ancient Japanese crafts and craftsmen/women available and enjoyable for all. I highly recommend her books which I will list for you to check out.

In any event, my friend Lea Nickless who is a wonderful artist, posted some Shibori dyed pieces on her page in Facebook and when I complimented her on them, she casually mentioned that she'd be glad to teach me how to make some! I took her up on it! We had a class in her beautiful home the following Saturday. The rest is history...I was hooked. Immediately ordered the dyes and yesterday, I started working! It is a wonderful process.

I can't believe that I lived in Tokyo for 12 years and never once dipped cloth into dye. What was I thinking! I guess I was too busy having babies the first 6 years and helping other women have their babies the next six years.

Books by Amy Sylvester Katoh:

Japan: The Art of Living

Japan Country Living: Spirit, Tradition, Style

Blue and White Japan

Otafuku: Joy of Japan

New earrings for sale!

Back at Work!

Hand made metal hoops with turquoise bead

Its been a busy summer so far. Lots of visitors, a trip to Brooklyn to celebrate Max's second birthday, a quick trip to Buenos Aires and now, finally, I'm back at work. I'm making a lot of new earrings, painting and journaling. I feel so grounded in my new studio. I feel like I'm where I belong. It makes me happy. Hopefully that is reflected in my work and in the rest of my life!

I look around the workshop and my eyes fall on loved things. My women, my tools, pencils, brushes...books. Everything familiar. Touched. Enjoyed.

Studio/Workshop in Coconut Grove

I fell in love with my home in Coconut Grove at first sight. It is much smaller that the house in New York where my husband and I raised our family and I had to lighten up a lot to be able live here comfortably. Like many old houses, the closet situation leaves much to be desired and I sometimes miss the walk-in closet and all the storage space in the house I left behind. Still, the charm of the house made practical considerations...just that, a mere thought. I was moving in.

There is a guest suite that I've called "the cottage" which is adjacent to the house. It has housed guests and now it has transformed into my studio. During the Memorial Day weekend I moved in all my art projects, tools and equipment and have been working to make it mine. I can go there whenever I wish and sit and paint, or draw or wait for inspiration to strike. I can also leave an unfinished project without worrying about the mess. Just walk away and return later.

I've always had a need for a room of my own. We tend to call that extra room in our homes "the office" and leave it at that. I've always had a space in every home I've lived in that housed "my stuff" whatever that meant at the time. It wasn't officially "mine" though. It wasn't intended for me. Funny, I remember moving into a new place wherever we were in the world and assigning rooms for everyone and like most women, calling that extra room "the office." Some men like the garage as a project room and others need office space at home. My husband never felt a need for an office at home. He never brought work home and had no interest in a space designated for that purpose. He used to say that he did his best work lying on his back looking at the stars! I on the other hand, did work at home and my office was really wherever I had the space. Sometimes the basement, a room left behind by one of my kids going to college, a lonely abandoned spot in the basement, a spot wherever I could find it in the house. And it was a cavernous house. And it really didn't have a real room for me.

It took me a long time to allow myself the full privilege of calling a specific part of the house mine and only mine. Not my bedroom, or office. No. My space. And now, so many years later I finally have.
A place to play, to think, to create, and while many will say that my whole house can be my sanctuary, a room of my own, and in my case, separated but adjacent to the house where I actually live, is a gift I have given myself. Because that's what it is. Allowing it to happen. I've had that cottage for almost five years now and its been empty expect for the times that I've had visitors and they could enjoy the comfort and independence that it provided them for a few days. When they left, it would remain empty. No more. Now my guests will be housed in the spare bedroom in my house. The "cottage" is now mine.

I immediately called my daughters and recommended that wherever they are, they make a room their own and call it by that name, "my room." And they have to make it theirs.

I guess I've finally grown up and taken possession of a small place in this world that is completely and utterly mine. Visitors to my studio? By invitation only!

The first thing you see in my new workshop is this sign: