My studio is haunted.
Not scary haunted, but kind of annoyingly haunted.
The place I’ve leased is an old house, a small one, probably about 150 years old. Anyone who lives in Europe right now is scoffing a bit. ONLY a hundred and fifty? It’s practically BRAND NEW!
But in Canada, where we swing between preserving our past and obliterating it, along with the fact that the country just isn’t that old, 150 years old is pretty old.
Anyway, it could be older. It has a stone foundation and a terrifying cellar.
I’m claustrophobic. I discovered that the hard way the first time I went spelunking. And the second time. Because I’m a glutton for punishment.
I went into the cellar once because my realtor taunted me and I did a Marty McFly impersonation and went into that horrible, tiny, dirt-floored place.
There were WHITE and DEAD SPIDERS hanging from the low rafters.
I stayed long enough to say I was there and then woof! Back up the ladder/stairs.
So things started happening once I moved in. Cold spots. Pictures flying, not falling, off the walls. Doors opening that were clicked and latched shut.
Oh, and the one spot in the room where no matter who walks through it, everyone coughs. One cough.
Things have settled down a bit since. Oh, I get the whole cold spots thing. This ghost fucking paces at times.
But I’m not frightened or nervous about this. I think it adds to the story I’m building while I’m here.
I love layers of things, whether it’s in stories or in life.
The fact that we live and work in places where 100 years ago other people were here. And 100 years from now, we could be the ghosts. The history. The layers and depth.
For the record, my ghost would probably be stamping her feet in front of a ghostly easel, singing badly to really loud music. And though I don’t use glitter in my day-to-day art, I’d like to think my ghostly signature would be glitter. Tons of it. Everywhere.
I had the option to remove this ghost, this former home owner and I’ve decided not to. There’s no malice here. I was the one who came in and changed everything.
I think we’ve come to an understanding now. She makes me cold and lets me know she’s around. I stop and enjoy her company.
Salt and burn? Not this time.
But if I paint a lot of Supernatural art, now you know why.
Want prints? Supernatural and other fandoms? Head on over to my site. A lot of my prints are in their final runs. Once they’re gone, they’re gone.
Unlike my ghost.
Did you know?
I’ve always lived in haunted spaces. Sure we can blame the oddities on how older buildings behave. I’m fine with that too.
Well, aside from items flying off my table, untouched. Doors unlocking themselves. And cold spots that can’t be attributed to any drafts.
I suppose it should bother me, but I prefer to believe that we live in a world where there are so many more things going on than we can perceive. It makes everything more interesting.