A Working Studio

The studio is progressing. I stayed up until about 4:00 AM working on it, since today is the Good Friday holiday. Just rolled out of bed about half an hour ago. I think I'll *try* to finish it today. Right now there are boxes everywhere. I'm going to go to Home Depot and buy a little more paint for touch-up, right after I hit Soupper Salad. Absolutely starving. Pictures coming later!

(much later)

I've spent the entire day half-heartedly working on the studio, and it isn't finished yet. Every time I leave the room and venture into other parts of the house I find more freaking arts and crafts supplies. I'm drowning in crafty crap.

I'm starting to think the amount of supplies a person owns is inversely proportional to their actual talent.


As I said, inversley . . . .

proportional.

In the beginning I tried to organize chaos as I went along, but by dinner I figured out just how stupid that was. Now I'm just trying to FIND ROOM, to hell with ever finding any particular item again.

Part of the problem is identifying what I actually use, and what I can afford to store in the closet. It's been so long since I've done anything creative that on the surface it looks like EVERYTHING could be stored in the closet, which isn't helping matters any.

I wanted a specific area for paper work, and a specific area for eggs. Ain't happening. It would just take too long. Maybe later (like next year) I can re-think the space and organize all my boxes and bins.

My tabouret, which has always held my most-used supplies, won't fit under the counter. I mis-measured by a quarter of an inch. It could probably be stored up against a wall, but the only wall I have left was going to be for a guest chair. I don't know why this has me so bummed -- it's not like I ever have guests anyway.

Today, temporarily, I wished the twins weren't married. They are so good at organizing and arranging, especially C. I'm no good by myself. I get depressed by the amount of work involved, and start reading books instead. I need someone to talk to so I can keep on task. This kind of hell is much more bearable with a decent conversation. Days like this are when I miss my past the most -- back when I had a whole roster of friends I could call, friends who would pitch in just for a good conversation. And to get me in their debt, of course. Friendships aren't anything without all the "owe yous."