From Surgery to Studio – A Season of Healing and Hope
As I lie here in bed, three weeks into recovering from a major surgery, I find myself reflecting on the whirlwind that was May 2025—a month of profound contrast, both joyful and life-altering.
May 2025 brought dreams to life. I had my first solo exhibition at Gallery Vertigo and had the incredible opportunity to perform alongside my dear friend, Rose Kirchner, who is an accomplished singer-songwriter. These were not just career milestones, but personal victories that took years of persistence, heartache, and growth to achieve. I stood at the summit of a mountain I had been climbing for so long, and it felt incredible to celebrate those moments with my family, coworkers, and the community that has supported me.
Yet, even as I stood in the light of accomplishment, I knew a shadow was approaching. At the end of the month, I underwent a major surgery I had long feared. The physical recovery remains slow with complications—my body aches, my energy is low—but my spirit remains vividly awake. My mind continues to dream, to imagine, to plan.
This period of stillness has also become a time of visioning. As I rest, I feel a pull toward something new: the transformation of my home studio into a welcoming gallery and creative space this fall. It’s something I’ve quietly prepared for, even as my studio was in disarray. Before the surgery, I managed to clear out a small corner—just enough to plant the seed of what’s next.
My goal now is to work more from home—closer to my husband and three children, rooted in the rhythm of our life together. I recently lost one of my two positions with School District 22, and with that loss comes a wave of financial uncertainty. I won’t pretend I’m not scared. I am. But I’m also determined.
So here I am—healing, dreaming, and holding onto hope. I envision a future where I can share my art through intimate home studio sessions, nature-inspired mixed media workshops and online tutorials. Maybe this is how I begin to bridge the gap between fear and faith, between loss and new growth.
This is the beginning of a new chapter. Thank you for being here with me.
— DeAnna