Benson Street Studio
A favorite story about me in our family lore
is being turned around at the front door, more than once, by my mother to change either the top or bottom piece of my outfit, with a little more attention to finding a matching combination. As an eight, nine, ten year old, it seemed to me completely logical that a blue and green plaid blouse would go with pink and white striped pants. And if they didn't, who cared? Not me. I liked each piece...it seemed reason enough to wear them together.
I have said a hundred times that in some alternate version of my life, I would be a happy, even if starving, artist (to follow the cliche). I probably wouldn't have worried about my clothes matching. The way this life played out, I didn't choose art because it was not on my list of responsible careers. This confession would be easier if I could say my parents discouraged it or wouldn't have approved, but it's not the case. I don't have
parents. I was always told I could be whatever I wanted to be. But no regret. Regret is almost always wasted energy. When my sons were still fairly young, I ended up a single mom and it was good to have a career, with benefits and stability. It is good work, I wear clothes that match to the office, and it leaves me satisfied. Mostly.
One of the gifts of life is the way it changes. Now I have grown sons...fabulous, independent. There is time to learn and practice the magic of silversmithing to make pretty earrings. There is time to practice the art and skill of writing, which I love as much as metal and stones and torches, and find a hundred times more challenging. There isn't always time (or motivation) to put on matching clothes. But I don't care.
Welcome to Benson Street Studio.
My name is Donna Goodaker. I've lived in Nashville, Tennessee most of my adult life after a crazy good childhood in Evansville, Indiana. Mother of two adult sons, for whom I have boundless affection, pride and wonder. Jewelry maker. Writer. Nonprofit executive director.
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