as artist, teacher and writer, i seek beauty, wonder and joy.
i search for understanding in the everyday of things. more than two decades ago, five acres and an abandoned farmhouse in rutledge, georgia, siren-called me from the confines of city.i fled my pine-tree, chain-linked childhood in suburban atlanta for something i didn’t know i wanted, but when i found it, i knew i’d been set free.the ragtag farmhouse whispered from the century past, surrounded by rust-orange-red, deep-furrow clay, protected by water oaks, white oaks, pin oaks.
young, hopeful and newly married, we named this place oakhaven farm. we offered our love. our youth. tears. laughter. she accepted, and gracefully wrapped her arms around us, accepting our setbacks and our growth, our discoveries. our circuitous route to art and finding home in ourselves, as we found home in the land and structures and animals who share our days.
under her spell,we learned that when we quiet and steady ourselves, we gain access to the subtle beauty lies just below the busy of our lives.II.
we are two humans, a misfit goat herd, a flock of laying hens and their dallying roosters, two rescue hounds, two rescue cats, and the duo of dedicated livestock guardian dogs, whose night vigils protect their 16 squash-bellied browsers, and whose dream-drenched, shade-soaked, mid-day naps are the envy of us all.from this place, i cultivate love, art and magical whimsy.i find joy in the hooves that move through summer grasses and red-clay dust.
i share that joy through art, story, song and magic in goatballad.
dust and grasses. horns and shadow. hooves and breeze and afternoon light.
may they find you too, as you stand in this space, gazing into their everyday. my everyday.
listen to the whispers, the poetry.
may they summon you. elicit a smile. call you home.
angelina bellebuonooakhaven farmrutledge, georgia