color, glorious color

Some of you know that I just returned from a trip to Guatemala where I was cooking at a writer's workshop on beautiful lake Atitlan.  I arrived back in New Hampshire early Monday morning.  The day was gray and I was struck by the absence of all of the color that had surrounded me for the past couple of weeks.  This post will be mostly photos-- a feast of color for all of us that are slogging through the drab days of late winter.

view from the porch

entrance from dock

end of the day

my bedroom up in the peak

views from my bed

housekeeping day--I was so touched that the housekeeper had placed my glasses carefully beneath my books--pretty sweet

view from the shower

from my room

market day

Danny painting from the deck of his room

beautiful flowers

kitchen scenes and Danny's postcard paintings

local boys at play

attendees arriving in the pouring rain

Lisa and Joyce

It is nice to be home, but I have to say that spring can not come quickly enough!

out with the old...

...and in with the new--even if it's scarey.

So it's official--well almost, and practically a certainty unless things really fall apart, which of course they could, and often do--

I have a sales agreement on the  Nashua studio.  Those of you that have visited know what a remarkable space it is.  I have been lucky to have owned it for the last six years drawing from the great creative spirit of the place. We have held workshop after workshop, and so many wonderful people have shared time with me there.  But keeping a studio that is over 70 miles from my new home is logistically difficult and certainly not very green.  So....

 I am moving--and this is almost official as well--and this space is mere steps from my home.  I will be renting the space on the left side.  There are large windows, creative space, and a kitchen--those of you who have taken our workshops know how important food--in particular, chocolate--is to the energy of the class.  The space is only 1/3 the size of my current studio, but there is plenty of room to teach American Clay and all of the other workshops we offer.  The new studio is in Portsmouth NH, which just bustles with creative energy.  I am looking forward to getting through this next phase and working to become a part of this vibrant community.

And so when....?

 Well, right after I return from yet another dream trip--I am so unbelievably fortunate to be heading to Lake Atitlan, Guatemala to act as an assistant cook at a writer's workshop.  I will be assisting my dear friend and very talented artist, Daniel Thibeault.

The above painting is one of Dan's.  More of his work can be  viewed here.  His beautiful home can also be viewed in the latest addition of Country Living.


I will return in early March just in time to close on the studio and start working on the new space.  Spring will be near and I will look forward to inviting you all to view the new space once I settle in.

Happy New Year.  Wishing all a healthy and happy 2010.

PS--Below are two links to charities involved in relief work in Haiti.  My heart goes out to all that are suffering through this unimaginable crisis.  Blessings to those who are able to help.
Mercy Corps
IRC

home for the holidays...

We had our first Christmas together on the seacoast this year.  Christmas Eve was warm...balmy even.  The kids and I went into town to pick up Christmas dinner.  Sanders Lobster was our first stop.  What a find...they were passing out complimentary servings of their fabulous lobster chowder.  It was such fun to hang out on the dock slurping hot, delicious chowder.  My son-in-law Mike, promised to take on all lobster wrangling duties as I am  a bit squeamish about such things. 

My wonderful builder, Peter Coyman worked overtime to get the lights installed and the last of the shelves in place.  Dear friend and kitchen designer Susan Durling of Amherst NH had carefully re-worked my designs to make sure I made the most of every tiny inch.  We weren't the least bit uncomfortable gathered around the kitchen island.

Don Mavrikas of Mavrikas Upholstery did a beautiful job on my grandmother's chair.   Remember the chair?  I switched from the bold orange to this lovely cobalt.  The fabric is from Schumacher.  Thanks to Sami, Michelle and Timothy of the Schumacher showroom at the BDC.

Breakfast featured the family favorite--sausage bread.  Not quite having gotten used to cooking in a gas oven, I have to say this was not my best effort, but we each managed to put away our fair share.

The tiny living room with the equally tiny tree (Bedford Fields) was warm and surprisingly comfortable.

Unhappily for the lobster, chowder was the theme of Christmas this year.  Fresh greens, goat cheese and Prosecco from Fresh Market, along with  wonderful bread from  Ceres Street Bakery rounded out the meal.

With most renovations complete until we begin again late winter this will be the last post on the house for a while.  It's time to take a break from this and post photos of some of the fabulous projects I have been priviledged to work on this year.

The bigger news is that it looks as though the Nashua Studio will be sold and I will be moving operations to  a wonderful space in Portsmouth which I hope to settle into soon.

Wishing you and yours a joyful new year.

a light at the end of the tunnel

Those of you living in New England may remember the torrential rains of last weekend. Not a good day to move, but move I did.

My sister Ann, (redacted recipes) came from Brooklyn to help . She is a good big sister. I spend my life being quite capable, but I definitely become the little sister when Ann is around. It was just the two of us--quality sister time if there ever was. We rented a van and tried to keep our heads above water, literally. It never stopped raining the entire day. Picture drowning muskrats....a very bad hair day for sure.

The living room was set up by the end of the day. We spent the evening drinking good wine, listening to music and celebrating sisterhood and my new home. Ann even kept me calm when I awoke to water (lots of it) in my basement the next morning.

The kitchen too, is almost complete.
The back wall is a custom color of chalkboard paint, Solid black was a little too scary for me, but I love this deep, deep blue. The blue tape and chalk outlines mark where the rest of the shelves will be placed.

There is still a bit of painting to be done, and more belongings still need to be packed and moved. I find this astounding as I feel I have relieved myself of so many possessions the past couple of years—but there are always more, more, more. How can I possibly have so much stuff?....and yet, I am grateful for the abundance. Wishing you and yours an abundant and peaceful Thanksgiving holiday.

thank you

Thank you to the veterans and their families who give so much. I deeply appreciate your service and grieve for your sacrifice.

I realize that design is trivial in troubled times. But I also believe that creating a space to tuck in with ones family offers comfort and peace.

Workshops are always free of charge to returning veterans. I would be honored to have you in any class.

pretty and pink

I have never been a fan of pink. As a matter of fact I would describe myself as pink averse. I never had a pink bedroom as a child, rarely wear the color, and never, ever thought I would voluntarily spread the color cheerfully over my own walls. But that is exactly what I have just done. And not just any pink either, but a deep, hot pink. So deep and hot that upon entering the room one can imagine heat radiating from the walls. And yet it is also the pink of peonies. It speaks of raindrops on green leaves and petals. Shade on a warm day. I think it is the perfect pink.

I love this wallpaper. I found it in the Kravet showroom at the Boston Design Center. I could never do something as easy as simply buying the paper and installing it (and thanks to my mother, Mary Anne of the Wallflowers, I am a darn good paper hanger). Nope, I have decided to replicate it in paint. One more project to add to this endless list. But I am pleased and excited. This pink speaks of creative energy. I know it will make for an inspirational work space. Already I see a glass desk floating in front of the window--a Lucite chair tucked under. Nothing to disrupt the view. Have I told you that I have a view? :)

update...the house

Did I tell you that my house is small? That she is a sweet, tiny, nurturing space? How is it then, that I fear she may just put me into the ground?

It is early November. I have been in a relationship with her for nearly twelve weeks--longer if you count the weeks before I was really committed. My relationship with this house seems to follow the path of most relationships. Attraction and cautious optimism in the beginning turning to excitement and delight as time goes by. I have gotten to really know her now, and I like her--I really do. However, we have hit a snag. She is a demanding little house and is far too consuming of my time. I have let her take over my life. I work all day trying to make sure I can meet the mortgage. When I come home she is there competing for my attention.

I slide through the door greeted by my two pieces of furniture--a small, borrowed (very hard) chair, and a lovely, comfortable, beautiful bed. The bed beckons always, but there is more to do. Painting and scraping and sanding and such. Endless! With each task I accomplish she seems so pleased. Happy to be dressed in her finest. It is seductive and I am her victim.

Two more weeks I tell you. I will be in. Boundaries will be drawn. She and I will learn to co-exist. I will take care of her and she will shelter me.

ahhhh......

A working bathroom....

american clay workshop 10/30

There is still space available in our one-day American Clay Workshop this Friday, 10/30.

Details

relationship with a small house--first night

I slept in my house two nights ago for the first time. There is no kitchen and now with the discovery of a leaking sewer pipe, there is no bathroom. Fortunately (though I haven't thought so until now), I have not yet rented out the house next door, so none of this is really an issue.

I can watch the sun rise over the bridge from the window of my non working bathroom. From my bed, I view the freighters as they slowly make their way up river to the electrical plant. The tiny house is cozy and warm and she seems to welcome me whole heartedly.

She is decidedly feminine. A great nurturer tucked into a tiny little shell. Really. I come to this house feeling at sea myself, and though I am completely overwhelmed, each time I allow myself to just really be here, I know that things will be OK.

Dear friends came to offer labor and support yesterday. It is hard to work when you don't have your own tools and nothing seems to go as planned, but much was accomplished. The fence sits stacked in the yard ready for another work party next weekend. The old refrigerator has a new home in the basement and the stove has moved next door. There are new exterior lights and a few window boxes are in place.

Friends who are not painters diligently followed my instructions and primed woodwork that has never seen more than a coat of varnish in 90 years.

There is still much to be done but I am hopeful now. Winter is on the way, but I am secure in the fact that I will be tucked in and feeling at home before the holidays.

falling slowly....

It is already October. Here in New England the leaves have started to turn and summer is falling away. Mixed with the joy of a crisp fresh apples and cool evenings, Autumn always brings to me a hint of sadness. Perhaps it is simply missing the days of leggy little girls hopeful for what the new school year will bring.

I feel like a schoolgirl myself this year. Hopeful, but with trepidation and not a small bit of anxiety. It is a big time. A house not yet completed, my studio for sale. A search for a tenant to share space next door. I find myself chirping and running like a busy chipmunk frantically getting ready for the winter ahead.

If anyone is looking for a small sweet space to spend the winter on the NH seacoast please let me know. lisateague@lisateague.com

and really...

who in their right mind, goes from this?



to this?