Studio Notes - Psst, I’m Ready to Go Home
This week in the studio I shipped my first painting.
I sang loudly in the car, stealing glances at the passenger seat where Succulent Love rode shotgun.
She’s painted with pastel pinks, turquoise, and a stark black background.
With the excitement and nerves of a mother dropping her kid off at school for the first time, I threw my Honda Civic in park and made my way into the store.
A smile plastered on my face, I tried to examine shipping options on my own. Realizing this was more than a one-man job, I practically skipped to the cashier’s station.
“How I can I help you today ma’am?” an older gentleman with grey hair and a tired smile greeted me.
“I’d like your recommendation on the best way to ship this.”
Then I laid my piece down on the counter.
I enjoyed watching him handle it with care, measuring the height and width. Excusing himself, he briefly disappeared to the back.
He returned with a box and asked me where she was headed. I listed off the zip code and he reflected to me:
“Springfield, Oregon?”
“Yes,” I grinned.
Springfield, Oregon. Some know it as inspiration for the hit show “The Simpsons”. I know it as home.
Suddenly, I’m not in Texas anymore. I’m driving down windy well paved roads, the leaves falling in beautiful orange, yellow, and red hues. The wind whipping through my hair as summer winds down and the rainy season looms.
I’m heading to my weekly private hot yoga lessons with one of my favorite people. My yogi, a beautiful woman with an even prettier soul. She has chocolate hair, legs for days and a contagious laugh.
Our yoga flows were intense vinyasa sessions matched with loud R&B jams (Shoutout The Notorious B.I.G.!).
Sometimes I swear I saw God through the sweat dripping off my brow. I would look over at her exhausted and ask, “What do I do, yogi?”
She chuckled, “Be a leaf in the river”
Our practice would end with a hug so big and warm, my hardened exterior shell would crack.
As a woman so used to being strong, I always seemed to soften in her presence. We crossed paths at a time when my soul was lost in addiction and suffering. She spoke hope into me while believing that things would change for me one day.
So, it only felt right that when she told me she wanted one of my paintings for her studio, I waited patiently for a volunteer.
Succulent Love whispered on Thursday: “Psst, I’m ready to go home now”.
The version of me that painted this piece while listening to a playlist titled Soul Food is deeply indebted to the people who believed in me before I knew how to believe in myself. My yogi is one of them.
Years after I’ve stopped being her student, we call once a week. Sometimes our calls are mundane, sometimes full of laughter, and sometimes full of tears.
She loves to remind me with vigor:
“You’ve got the world by the balls, Sierra!”
This week in the studio I shipped my first painting.
I signed the back “Sierra Koch original”, tucked in a handwritten note, and said goodbye as Succulent Love returned home.
Holding space for softness and downward dogs,
Sierra Koch
6-14-26