Doors open

when you choose your passion, purpose, and bliss

Long time followers of The Footloose Muse remember that I was MIA for a solid year on this platform. Back-to-back eye surgeries and a lingering cloud of malaise pulled me away from the creative life I had come to take for granted.

It wasn’t the first time my muse flew the coup. And luckily, I’ve lived long enough to trust that she always returns. I heard her before I felt her pulling me from my slumber and reinvigorating my spirit.

This wasn’t the first time my muse flew the coup.

I’m clairaudient; psychic hearing is one of my gifts. (Before you think I’ve lost my marbles, keep in mind: we all have intuitive capacities. Most people simply ignore them.)

So when the muse wants my attention, she only has to whisper. And a few weeks ago, she started whispering again.

A Return, in Two Whispers

The first nudge was gentle but persistent.

“Fiber art…it’s time.”

As a young woman and mother, I was an accomplished seamstress. I even started a clothing company named after my firstborn, Katherine’s of Kingston. My creations ranged from simple cotton dresses to special-occasion heirlooms, including a christening gown I made for my younger daughter, Lindsey. The gown has now been worn by two generations. It’s become a living thread running through our family.

(Katie’s youngest daughter, wearing the christening gown I created more than thirty years ago. Legacy really is a kind of art)

That whisper alone would have been enough. But then came the second one, unexpected, clear, and impossible to ignore.

“Reach out to the artist community. Ask about studio space.”

Studio space? I literally laughed. But the message wouldn’t quit.

Eventually, I reached out to the administrator of a well-respected artist community near my home. I texted the administrator on November 6. She wrote back kindly, but firmly: “Sorry. Nothing is available.”

Okay then, I thought. I tried.

But on November 24, my phone buzzed again.

“Guess what! We have an opening!”

And suddenly, a new door appeared. Literally.

(The door to the mill building, a historic, creative hive brimming with possibility)

The Door That Said Yes

This week, I walked through that door and signed a one-year lease on a second-floor studio in a historically significant old mill complex. It’s bright. Airy. Spacious. Full of promise.

It feels like a home for the next chapter of my creative life.

(Studio 206. My soon-to-be creative sanctuary)

I can paint here. Sew here. Write here. Edit photographs here. Host workshops. Build community. Grow.

Most importantly:

I can meet my muse here.

Doors really do open when you choose your passion, purpose, and bliss.

Not before.

Not after.

Exactly when you do.

And for those of you who, like me, have paused, or wandered, or doubted:

Maybe this is your whisper.

Maybe this is your nudge.

Guess what?

You have an opening, too.