I've chosen for two years now to embrace a life of slight instability and lots of nomadic roaming. Often that means little or no time for creating art and living out of a backpack or tent. For the most part I've been ok with this and I try to photograph the things that inspire me and ignore the fact that I'm not really being productive or creating anything. But every now and then I go back to what is no longer mine and heave a big mental sigh. Because I used to have a whole room dedicated to creating... and now I've shoved everything into my childhood bedroom and there it sits, unused and unloved. Whenever I visit my parents I go upstairs and run my hands over keepsakes and struggle not to bring yet another item back with me to cram into a very small living space. I silently say goodbye to the objects and stacks of books and art supplies and vow to try and create more in the limited little space that I have carved out up in New Hampshire. Here is a few peeks at my former studio space. Some of these things have migrated with me, some have been left behind.