The Nest

Welcome to Alex Shapiro's world, from her blog site this morning.

The Nest

Ten days is a long time
to be away from my desk.
Largely because
I really enjoy sitting here.

My studio could be titled,
“Mission: Control Freak.”
Absolute Nirvana
for a creative, geeky gal like me
for whom simultaneous multitasking
engaging all corners of the brain
is an Olympic event.

The space in which I spend
the bulk of my hours
is a personal tidepool
filled with artifacts
that will define my little existence
long after I no longer exist,
if only for the short period of time
before none of the stuff
in this room exists,
either.

Against the wall on the left,
a fine upright piano
laden with too many score pads,
mechanical pencils and,
most importantly, erasers.

The place of bad starts
to many pieces
and initial sketches of a few decent ones.
To the right of that,
facing the center wall,
is the belly of the beast:
my digital workstation,
replete with three large LCD monitors
offering 57 glorious inches of visual real estate,
fully consumed with arrays
of slick-looking software windows vying for my attention,
all hovering over an 88-note keyboard controller,
which hovers over the Big Powerful Computer
and some outboard rack gear.

The place of utter sonic manipulation,
when the humans and cats in my life
refuse to allow me to manipulate them.
And to the right of all that
lies my sizable desk,
snugly tucked under a picture window
and by a glass door
overlooking the woods
and the deer and the birds
and the water that glistens
through the trees as the sun sparkles.

The fourth wall,
to the right of all the aforementioned,
simply backs my various guitars and hand drums,
which in turn are backed
by a large and magnificent oil painting
that spans the length of the room,
a gift to me from a very close family member
who is the talented and deeply loved artist.
Its intense, jeweled blues, teals and greens
abstractly depict a natural world
not unlike the one a few inches away
on the other side of the glass door.
I am surrounded by visual peace.

Direction and delineation.
Facing north,
I begin new pieces.
Facing east,
I bring them to life via technology.
Facing south,
I get them out into the world.
And facing west,
I breathe and meditate for a moment
as I take in the stunning colors and shapes
of the painting,
and by doing so,
allow my spirit to turn
once again to the right
and begin my own creative process
all over again.

I’m in my swivel chair.
Swiveling.
And I’m happy to be home.

Alex Shapiro October 2008