Studio Corner as Sanctuary

As I fire up this long neglected blog site, I have faced some serious questions about how I want to proceed with my life.

In January I was stuck with SSHL - Sudden Sensorial Hearing Loss. Within four hours I was permanently deaf in my left ear, and have had months of balance issues to deal with, starting with vertigo so bad I couldn't stand up, to now, months later, I am finally able to drive my truck and ride my horse. Lingering problems with balance still plague me, but according to my GP, and the ENT specialist, my brain will eventually completely adjust...with time.

In April I turned 70. I was left wondering "How the hell did that happen?"

Then in May I had to have a chunk taken out of my right upper arm to remove pre-melanoma cells.

Warning lights started to blink. Sirens went off. Not so much a panic, but defiantly a wakeup call to reassess what is important in my life, and what is not. I  asked myself,  "What do I want to concentrate on, and what do I want to eliminate?" Some of those decisions were easy, some very hard, but necessary.

To that end, I am cutting my time on FB way, way back. It has become inundated with anger, politics, false memes, pleas for donations, requests to take surveys, and in some cases really vulgar comments on threads. Who needs it? Not me. Trolling trough all that negativity searching for the positive, fun posts by my friends started to depress me. The world is in enough chaos, and I know that, but I don't want to be assaulted by it all while drinking my first cup of tea in the morning.  I felt I needed to pressure-wash all that darkness out of my brain, and bring in some light. 

The remedy? Say bye-bye to FB, or severely limit my time there. Concentrate on my painting, beading, and jewelry making. Now that the weather is getting better, spend more time in my garden and working with my horse, Regala. Walk more, listen to music, read (I do that a lot already), spend more time with family and friends. 

Does this mean I intend to stick my head in the sand and ignore what is happening in the world? No, of course not. I want a certain amount of peace, but I don't want to be ignorant of what is going on everywhere else. That would be stupid. But wow, it is so easy to get sucked into all that chaos and forget to enjoy life. 

I have reclaimed my studio corner in the garage. It got buried during a kitchen remodel during which we lived out of the garage, and the whole place was a staging area for appliances, hardware, paint, etc. My corner is just that, a small space next to a window, wedged in-between the wall the the chest freezer. My big drafting table takes up most of the space. An inexpensive utility table holds my paints and brushes. There is a small alter made up of animal skulls I have found on our property, a big candle, a very special box made for me by a good friend, and a Halloween decoration skull I bought on sale. There is also a small greenhouse full of birds nests and feathers. This is my small sanctuary where I can create without interruption, open the window so I can hear the water fountain which is just outside, and look over and see the birds taking bathes and flinging water everywhere. 

My other "studio" is in what I call the Multi-purpose room. It holds the computer, my sewing supplies, and my beading and jewelry making supplies. It is where I do most of my winter work, as the garage corner eventually gets too cold. My sewing work gets transplanted to the dinning room table, and I have a big work table in the garage for laying out material and patterns. With only a two bedroom house, I have to make due where I can, and I am lucky in that my husband takes it all in stride. We have been married for 27 years, so he's used to it by now. 

So, that is the plan. Less darkness, more light. Less negativity, more creativity. 

Here is my little corner...it may not look very impressive, but it is mine, and I can play there to my heart's content. 

The inspiration board, decorated with a crochet piece done by the same good friend who made the special box. She is very talented and has her own blog site, https://onthehook.home.blog/?fbclid=IwAR3atfOq0ERmfLIUlGIR372zkgKD2XV5vvAQx0QPWTKLbmujX7Le5Z8M6G8

Drawing on the table is a work still in progress. Watercolor pencil on illustration board. 

Studio Dreams

Like all artists, I dream of the perfect studio. You know, one of those romantic, airy, high-ceilinged lofts, with plenty of space for all your artistic endeavors. Tall windows would face north, naturally, for that special North Light so important to getting colors just right. The floors would be wood, stained with decades of use (maybe the building had been an old factory in its previous life). There would be tables of different sizes and heights, one for wet painting, one for dry work. A separate station for working jewelry, with all supplies handy. An easel for larger works, oh, and a sewing station for doing costumes and refashioning pre-bought clothing. Well, you get the idea. A space for everything, and everything in its space. Oh, and just downstairs would be a coffee house, where I could nip down for a nice cup of hot Chai Tea (Sorry, I don’t do coffee).

Dream on, girl.

What I have is a far cry from anything remotely like that dream. I have a room. A small room. It is the darkest, coldest room in the house, hence the mango wall color—my attempt to warm up the place and think tropical. This room is also the computer room, writing room, accounting room, costume room, floral supply/storage room, and the pirate den. The walls are lined with various storage units, and the closet—doors removed—is full of storage units and costumes.

My “studio” is a table in this room. When I do jewelry, it is cluttered with tools, wire, beads, findings, etc. When I work in my art journals, it is littered with stamps, pencils, paper, watercolor Crayons, clip art, glue sticks and rolls of double-sided tape. If I could do any sewing (currently my sewing machine is out of commission), then said table would hold my portable machine, patterns, pins, material and possibly sketches of what the finished garment might look like. And many, many times, it is littered with bits and pieces of all of the above, which is its current state—well, except for the sewing stuff.

However, I am grateful that I have my little multipurpose room. At least I can leave stuff out on the table, walk away, and come back to it later. If I had to work on the dining room table, or anywhere else in the house, I’d have to put everything away, come back later, and dig it all out again. Big pain in the butt. Also, having the computer, scanner and printer in the same room is very handy, as I use all of them in my artwork.

So, I turn on the Probe-Droid (my portable CD/radio/tape player, which looks like something out of Star Wars, hence the name), pop in some music or a book on tape, and I play away at whatever I’m working on at the time, very grateful for this small, but “all mine” space.

Do I continue to dream of that romantic loft with unlimited space and perfect light? Sure. What artist doesn’t? It’s why I still have the big, tilt-top drafting table my husband bought for me at an auction. There is no way it would fit anywhere in our house. But it stands for the dream, so I hang on to it. Hmmm, maybe I’ll set it up in the garage, which since its remodel last summer is now insulated, and has tons of bright lighting, and two large windows—even if they do face south instead of north. Yeah, then I could at least move my bigger projects out there, not worry about spilling paint on the floor, and pretend there is a coffeehouse just around the block, instead of eleven miles away in town.

Now, if I could just get my husband to park his truck out in the driveway.... Ah well, there is still the dream.