Sometimes I don’t get a chance to visit my bush studio for weeks on end as I live in the city. When I do get there, it’s an interesting experience to follow a path in the forest to enter a roomy studio with familiar and large paintings that seem to be made by someone else. (Generally I feel most “good” artists are the best at opening themselves to that creativity that surrounds us.) So the bush studio feels like a decaying and abandoned monument in a forest few people ever enter. This is how the place feels. Special to me at least. The meditation deck next to it adds to the atmosphere. Ghosts everywhere.