Penland Lovelies: A Preamble
I wasn't nervous. Of course, before I left Raleigh and my boyfriend, our brand-new dog, and cozy apartment, I was both unsure and excited, and well, okay, maybe a bit nervous. And yes, the white-knuckled drive up the mountains in my aging Volvo wagon was more than a little nerve-racking.
But as I drove up Penland Road, and got the first glimpse of the Craft House and the Pines from a distance, all that disappeared, and wow, I felt
different.
I wasn't nervous. I am a nervous person. I obsess. I am awkward. I am unsure. And this new place, Penland,
where I didn't know anyone, mysteriously calmed me.
All sorts of emotions began to bubble to the surface after that auspicious first impression. It was an intense time--my mother was in Iraq, and I had just graduated from college. Even the fact that my boyfriend and I had made a big domestic step--
we got a dog-- strangely weighed on me.
As expected, I learned about printmaking and bookmaking. I met amazing and inspiring people, and fell into friend-love with quite a few. I uncovered all sorts of confusing and conflicting feelings that I am normally too distracted to notice. I fell in love with the kitchen, my early-morning prep shift, and surprisingly, hip-hop.
Now, I'm lucky enough to have a job that requires trips to Penland to find new artists and check out new work by our favorites in the area. While these trips are mostly business, I find myself rehashing all of these feelings the moment I step on campus. The ruminating begins--I wonder about how I used my Penland time, about my failure to be making anything of consequence, and my next steps.
This year, we visited on Easter, which felt especially significant since I spent that day, two years ago, absolutely occupied with thoughts of my mother. The egg-hunt, the lazy afternoon waiting, it all reminded me of her--that worry, that anger that we were in a war at all. And now, while I am immensely grateful that she is home safely, I am furious that the war is still on and worried that she will be deployed again.
And, all that, in its uncertainty and introspection, is what Penland is for me. I can't quite pinpoint it, but something was inexplicably different the moment I stepped out of my car, and that difference returns each time I do.
Check back soon for Penland Lovelies #1: I Think I'm in Love.
