I would finish the piece I was working on then I would have a bit of a tidy up in readiness for all the new stuff I was planning to do.
That was the plan.
I needed more space.
The necessary clutter of work in progress is at once comforting and restrictive. I am oblivious as time passes and chaos creeps in like silken tendrils, first to caress reassuringly ( I am in my lovely studio, after all with my making treasures abounding), then to smother as I search with feverish frustration for that very particular paper, cloth or scraping tool amongst the mounting detritus of all that creative doing.
So to do a bit of sorting and reorganising is refreshingly restorative.
Open the windows, turn the music up loud.
Time to breathe and get moving.
Tables scraped and cleared. Tools cleaned and rehoused. Paints back in box. Painty rags pinned to wall for future possibilities. Papers, fibres and threads dealt into ordered bundles.
Floor swept (stopping only occasionally to wonder at accumulating patina).
This was it. Taking control. New beginnings again.
Mmm, I could do with a bit more space.
There’s still a lot of stacks and piles…