My dream artist studio is a loft of some kind, with wooden floors, large paned windows with sheer curtains flowing in the breeze, and a counter-top and cabinets encircling the room. I would do the Alex P. Keaton rendition of the office chair flying across the floor as I went from one station to another.
I would no longer hate glitter. The glitter station would have a permanent embargo on interaction with any other station. The powder embossing station would have similar restrictions. The inking station would no longer sully the backs of newly folded cards, and paintbrushes would not be glued to scraps from the paper cutter. Yes, it would be harmony, chastity and calm.
At first I thought I had to wait until my daughter went off to college to reclaim her room. But I have been informed in no uncertain terms that her room is to be preserved for posterity (
n., time at which said daughter is no longer returning on break or on weekends or when sick, i.e., several years post-college graduation). So, unless I want to set up a cot in my dream studio and bear her wrath, I think I need to be content with what I have.
Which isn't so bad. I mean, so my living room (you know, the one right by the front door) is taken up about a third full of supplies and embellishments, and half-finished projects. It's not so bad when I clean it up for company. It's just that I dream of having all my supplies out and available, and not making hanky panky with each other. I would love to pick up scissors not coated with a fine white powder. I would love to use my paper cutter without pulling it out of the cabinet and watching that stupid (never used) multi-color ink pad fall, hoping it won't open up and stamp the carpet. The same carpet which has opened up and swallowed countless beads, brads, rhinestones, and eyelets, never to be heard from again--until the Dyson makes its way over there.
But at least I am not alone. My art teacher described her work area as shrinking during the course of a project until she was working on an 8"x8" square. That made me literally laugh out loud (spelled out, no less). And just maybe one of these days I'll toss that stupid multi-color ink pad that I never use.
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