At The End of the Day

I can't believe it's finished!  The studio is complete.  I want to stand in the middle of Time's Square, jump up and down and yell out, "It's done!  It's finished!  It's beautiful!  I did it!!".  In lieu of that, I'll just share with you.

It took me a couple of weeks but I seem to be able to find everything again, which, when you move your home, office, studio, is always a challenge.  Motor memory has you reach for something where it used to be then there is that moment where you know it's somewhere else but where?  Oh yeah.  You remember.  It just takes time - and a good label maker.

Let's start with the Mother Ship.   For those of you that don't know, I began my then mosaic hobby shortly after my son stopped wearing diapers.  I took his Ikea changing table down to the basement and it was just the right size for my small projects and storing my materials.  Now I use it as a desk to sit and sketch, plan my pieces, research and work out grout formulas.  I store my lazy susans in the place where I used to keep the diapers.  All my different mixes and colors of grouts are in the cabinet below.  The shelves to the right are a cart that I found at the Container Store.  It was on sale for a few bucks because it is missing its wheels.  Perfect for my measuring tools, miscellaneous tools and my all important band aids.  Believe me, I use them daily!

 What a thrill to have all my paints in the same place, neat and organized so there is not all that wasted time searching for that can of Ralph Lauren paint I used last year on that chair that I made for what's-her-name.  In the renovation, I tossed out all the questionable paint - craft, acrylic, latex, spray and kept what I can use from the container without working some voodoo with water and sometimes toxic fluids.  When doing such a thing, make sure you contact the waste management in your area to find out where to dispose of toxic materials.

The painting of the blonde up there was done by me when I was 4 or 5 years old.  I had found my grandpa's old oil painting kit.  I loved that he was an artist and I wanted to try my hand.  It is another touchstone for me.

The clay bas relief of the two dancers (I was a dancer in my first life so everything I did centered around dancing and dancers) was done in the most amazing art room that a public high school has ever seen.  Bellevue High School in Washington state (home now to Microsoft) had a nearly professional art studio with totally cool and hep cats teaching there.  It was the best place to go when skipping geometry.

It takes new choreography to move about and get used to working in my new studio.  In it's own way, it's like a new neighborhood.  I still have to find the best way to get there, the shortcuts and sweet spots.  While writing this series I have revisited pictures of the dark, dank, grey hole it used to be complete with the creepy insulation falling on my head.  Each time, the memory of working in that environment gets further away and less familiar to me.  Hasn't it always been this way?

We often make excuses about why we should keep things the way they are.  It's too hard.  It's not worth it.  It costs too much.  I can't do it alone.  Really, we just don't want to change.  Honestly though, nothing is more refreshing, more invigorating, more stimulating than change.  It's not necessarily a fear-free endeavor but the heart pounding shot of adrenaline that propels us forward wears off into a sense of well being because we have accomplished something and did something we weren't sure we could achieve.

At the end of the day, the only thing that is constant in the universe is change.