I realize it’s time to clean my studio.
Like many highly-creative people, I am not a natural organizer. I have a high appreciation for people who are, but my brain does not naturally compartmentalize, label, or sort. I often wish it did, but it does not.
And I find that my projects are an ongoing conversation; the more I see the things I’m working on, the further they speak to me and develop. A good portion of my process I refer to as “air painting,” whereby I paint ahead in my mind. Throughout the day I’ll often stop and stare at my work, as my brain works ahead of my brush.
So you see, although I’ll tidy often it’s not conducive to productivity to stop and clean out my art studio.
But, to be honest, it’s mostly the friends.
I saw the movie Blade Runner as a young girl, and rejoiced in open-mouthed wonder at the scene of JF Sebastian and his home. He was an inventor, and filled his home with living dolls and robotic wonders as companions. I wanted this, too.
Although I never got the animatronics part figured out (yet), my art studio is filled with the presence of the dolls I create, and I find their company very soothing. Their eyes watch me, seemingly cheering me on even while their heads lie disincorporated and awaiting attachment to forming bodies. Completed, they stand a silent army of compatriots in my personal palette, clothed in velvet and lace, always silent assent. They’re wonderful community. And yet, I need a little more room to create.
My goal today is getting close to an elusive balance of work space and organic sprawl, without losing presence of the company I keep.