I recently went to Taos for an annual art studio retreat. It’s my third year in a row going on this particular retreat. It happens at different times during the year and I have usually gone in September. This year, however, I had a conflict during that time and decided I’d try April.

I sometimes wonder why I go on these retreats. They feel indulgent, and I have a beautiful studio filled with everything I could ever want to work on. All my favorite things.

But within minutes of me arriving at the Mabel Dodge Luhan House in Taos, and moving into my room, I remember why this week is so special to me.

There are usually 12-14 of us there, all from different parts of the country. Always some familiar faces. There is no formal instruction during our week at Mabel’s. We bring all the supplies we need to work on the projects we’d like to focus on during our time there. We all work daily in a shared large studio space on the grounds. And we all agree upon a “silent studio”. At first mention, friends of mine have wrinkled their nose up at the idea of a silent studio.

“No talking? At all? Really?”

It is true. There is no talking inside of the shared studio. Of course there is plenty of talking outside the studio, and we all meet at breakfast and dinner in Mabel’s dining room to share a meal and discuss our day. The same dining room shared by Mabel’s many friends who stayed there- Georgia O’Keefe, Ansel Adams, D.H. Lawrence, just to name a few. We catch up, listen, and are attentive. You see, internet is spotty at Mabel’s, and even though that was at first an annoyance for me, I have adapted my attitude and treat this former irritant into a benefit. A chance to unplug, be present, and simple be in the moment. I actually don’t event take a lot of photographs during my week at Mabel’s.

This year my room was the Georgia O’Keefe room. I found myself waking up in the morning, making coffee and sitting in bed, thinking about how I was looking out the same windows that she looked out at. Seeing the same landscape. It is a humbling feeling.

We are led through these yearly retreats by the confident hands of Fran Meneley, a skilled facilitator and “people gatherer”. We begin each day with a shared breakfast, then a meeting in the Log Cabin room (where is it rumored Dennis Hopper shot a bullet hole into a wall I have yet to find). Fran shares a poem, we sort of mentally set our intention of the day, and head off to the studio where we work on our personal projects. I usually bring 3 things- an intensive quilting project of some sort, a less intensive project to help me when I need to mentally switch gears, and some sort of hand sewing project I can work on in the evenings in the shared living room or in my own room. We come and go throughout the day (and night) in the studio. Dinner is served at 6:30, and usually we are tired soon after.

It is encouraged that we get “off campus” and take a field trip into Taos at some point during the week. And with good reason- if I go on an excursion every day of the week I will still not be able to see and experience all that Taos has to offer. This year, I walked alone into town one day and bought myself a few little trinkets and talked to new friends. It was wonderful and really enjoyed the opportunity to get outside and just  b r e a t h e.

It is encouraged that we get “off campus” and take a field trip into Taos at some point during the week. And with good reason- if I go on an excursion every day of the week I will still not be able to see and experience all that Taos has to offer. This year, I walked alone into town one day and bought myself a few little trinkets and talked to new friends. It was wonderful and really enjoyed the opportunity to get outside and just  b r e a t h e.

We will secretly leave little things on each other’s work tables (I made little flowers from silk kimono remnants.) On the last day we exchanged altered postcards. These are done every year and are a project we all do quietly, separately, and no one knows who has whose postcard until that last day. There are usually tears. Someone commented this year that “the veil is thin” at Mabel’s. It’s fascinating, really. We all arrive and, even though we may not see each other much at all during the year, we all respect each other’s need to be there and to just experience art and creative space. Before we know it, we are discussing personal issues in our lives with people that we haven’t seen in a year or more. I find that a comfort, but also fascinating. So often women can be competitive and unsupportive. At Mabel’s we all really just want each other to “win”. In whatever that means for each person. It’s a special time. I’m so very glad I can be a part of it.

So what can a creative retreat do for our souls?

I can only answer for me, but I bet these feelings might be familiar to others. It centers me, both creatively and in how I want my life to feel and be. It gives me wide open mental space to just exist to be creative for a time. No dinner to make, no errands to run, no commitments other than how I feel about the work I did yesterday. Now that I’m back home I look at my treasures I brought back and I am reminded of those feelings.