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zoetheIt was not the Tuesday I was looking for. This was probably obvious from my earlier post demanding sympathy (and thank you all for doing a bang-up job at it). By the time I got back in the house and got settled down from all the chaos, it was obviously not going to be a business day. Hell, there was no "day" left.
So, my intention was to go to bed early. This is often my intention when Ferrett is out of town. It is an intention seldom accomplished, however, since I find it hard to go to sleep without him. And the fact that I am writing this at 2:30 in the morning is proof of my utter failure this time.
But that failure was not caused by sitting at the computer, playing mindless video games and getting frustrated with myself. No, tonight's failure was generated by action.
As many of you will recall, a while back I organized myself a sewing space in my laundry room so that I could get back to quilting. At the time I was pleased to have a space to sew, and eventually I added some fabric storage, but try as I might I didn't feel like it was a space in its own right. A couple months back, I expanded that space by getting Ferrett to move his drums to the empty corner of the family room and taking over the last bits of the laundry room. It's a large space, more room than I've ever had for sewing before, and when I got it arranged I wanted to feel excited about it as a space. But it wasn't there. I felt awkward and silly calling it my studio - it was a laundry room with sewing stuff in it. And I couldn't figure out why.
Then this evening I was reading a magazine I picked up called "Where Women Create" that's all about studio spaces. And it just made me more hopeless - well, of course their spaces are awesome. They are old barns or airy lofts or screen porches. I've seen this before, and I know that what I've got is a basement. An unfinished space of concrete and appliances, plumbing and electrical.
And, it hit me like a smack to the back of the head, absolutely nothing of me.
The factor tying together these women's spaces was not awesome location; it was what they did with that location. They made it their own. They filled it with inspiration and memory and comfort.
I'd stuck a couple tables in a room and waited for the magic. How oblivious could I be?
My first thought was, "gods, now I have to spend money buying myself stuff." But you know what? I have stuff. But because of my clutter-averse nature in my living area, lots of it was stowed away in an attempt to keep things clean.
All I had to do was open some cabinets.
I started hauling bits and pieces of things half forgotten, things loved but crammed away, and before you knew it, the room had flashes of character. But the washing machine area was a glaring eyesore, ruining it all for me. And then I realized part of the reason why: it looked like a basement because it was grimy like a basement. That set me to cleaning the floor under the laundry sink and around the machines. It was transformative.
The other thing I realized that that I had neither art nor craft on display in the room. That's right, my "studio" didn't have a single thing I'd made hanging on the walls.
How
Fucked up
Is that?
Now there is, at the cost of an entire evening. And, yes, now that 3am is rolling around, much of a night. There are still plenty of things I want to do there, and I'm sure there are other items that will make their way into the room. But I made a good start on creating creative space.
For those who are interested, here are pictures.
View upon entering the room:
The tablecloth over the storage units is my great grandmother's second-best one (the best one is carefully stored) I'm, glad to get to use this in a place where it will be safe but seen. I got the storage units when Pier One closed - wish I could have gotten more!
Unusable shelf space becomes a place for treasures:
This is my other work table. The items on it are easily removed for projects involving ink or paint or dye. I hand-dyed all the colored fabrics in the pinwheel quilt, so it seemed appropriate for this space.
The biggest eyesore in the room was the water softener, water meter, and assorted plumbing in this back corner. I was at a loss as to what to do about it when I remembered that we'd purchased Japanese screens to divide the family room when my sister and her son were living here. Draped with a couple unfinished projects to soften the look, this makes a perfect disguise for that corner!
As you can see, there is still a lot of white wall left. This is partially because it's concrete block and needs a masonry drill to attach things, and partially because I want additional storage units in some of these spaces. It's still a work in progress, and probably always will be, but I finally feel like it's a studio, not just someplace where I sew.
Now I really do have to get some sleep!
So, my intention was to go to bed early. This is often my intention when Ferrett is out of town. It is an intention seldom accomplished, however, since I find it hard to go to sleep without him. And the fact that I am writing this at 2:30 in the morning is proof of my utter failure this time.
But that failure was not caused by sitting at the computer, playing mindless video games and getting frustrated with myself. No, tonight's failure was generated by action.
As many of you will recall, a while back I organized myself a sewing space in my laundry room so that I could get back to quilting. At the time I was pleased to have a space to sew, and eventually I added some fabric storage, but try as I might I didn't feel like it was a space in its own right. A couple months back, I expanded that space by getting Ferrett to move his drums to the empty corner of the family room and taking over the last bits of the laundry room. It's a large space, more room than I've ever had for sewing before, and when I got it arranged I wanted to feel excited about it as a space. But it wasn't there. I felt awkward and silly calling it my studio - it was a laundry room with sewing stuff in it. And I couldn't figure out why.
Then this evening I was reading a magazine I picked up called "Where Women Create" that's all about studio spaces. And it just made me more hopeless - well, of course their spaces are awesome. They are old barns or airy lofts or screen porches. I've seen this before, and I know that what I've got is a basement. An unfinished space of concrete and appliances, plumbing and electrical.
And, it hit me like a smack to the back of the head, absolutely nothing of me.
The factor tying together these women's spaces was not awesome location; it was what they did with that location. They made it their own. They filled it with inspiration and memory and comfort.
I'd stuck a couple tables in a room and waited for the magic. How oblivious could I be?
My first thought was, "gods, now I have to spend money buying myself stuff." But you know what? I have stuff. But because of my clutter-averse nature in my living area, lots of it was stowed away in an attempt to keep things clean.
All I had to do was open some cabinets.
I started hauling bits and pieces of things half forgotten, things loved but crammed away, and before you knew it, the room had flashes of character. But the washing machine area was a glaring eyesore, ruining it all for me. And then I realized part of the reason why: it looked like a basement because it was grimy like a basement. That set me to cleaning the floor under the laundry sink and around the machines. It was transformative.
The other thing I realized that that I had neither art nor craft on display in the room. That's right, my "studio" didn't have a single thing I'd made hanging on the walls.
How
Fucked up
Is that?
Now there is, at the cost of an entire evening. And, yes, now that 3am is rolling around, much of a night. There are still plenty of things I want to do there, and I'm sure there are other items that will make their way into the room. But I made a good start on creating creative space.
For those who are interested, here are pictures.
View upon entering the room:
 |
The tablecloth over the storage units is my great grandmother's second-best one (the best one is carefully stored) I'm, glad to get to use this in a place where it will be safe but seen. I got the storage units when Pier One closed - wish I could have gotten more!
 |
Unusable shelf space becomes a place for treasures:
 |
This is my other work table. The items on it are easily removed for projects involving ink or paint or dye. I hand-dyed all the colored fabrics in the pinwheel quilt, so it seemed appropriate for this space.
 |
The biggest eyesore in the room was the water softener, water meter, and assorted plumbing in this back corner. I was at a loss as to what to do about it when I remembered that we'd purchased Japanese screens to divide the family room when my sister and her son were living here. Draped with a couple unfinished projects to soften the look, this makes a perfect disguise for that corner!
 |
As you can see, there is still a lot of white wall left. This is partially because it's concrete block and needs a masonry drill to attach things, and partially because I want additional storage units in some of these spaces. It's still a work in progress, and probably always will be, but I finally feel like it's a studio, not just someplace where I sew.
|
Now I really do have to get some sleep!
