My brain is my permanent house for my studio. It's taken me awhile to figure out where to set it up and I have had it in a few places—but never finished.
I live in the perfect place for creativity. On a lake—actually on an island. I have had to deal with some rough places as a studio space in during my life but my challenge here on the lake is I have too many places to set up my studio. Challenge? Yes, too many choices can be hard. Too many places to get trapped in perfecting the spot instead of perfecting the craft. There's such a thin line between procrastination and perfecting something. I can get totally stuck in the getting everything just right before I can cut myself loose to start playing. One of these days I'm going to just cut loose and play anyway... (see I'm procrastinating)
My boyfriend, Superman, just helped me tremendously this past week. I needed him as a sounding board. I pointed out all the pros and cons of various locations to set up my studio in the Tree House (what I call my home). All had potential, promise, and all posed problems. All had bits and pieces of my art supplies strewn about like clothes in a teenager's room. Well actually kinda like my bedroom. (hehe) He liked my ideas and told me they made sense. I needed some validation. I also need a strong arm... He gave me some guide lines to work under. If it is not creative—it does not belong in my studio. Sweet! I can work with that.
Here's my usual pattern. One room, one space in my world has always been the dumping ground, the holding tank, the clutter catcher, the junk room, the room you keep the door shut at all times and pray no one stumbles upon it looking for the bathroom, “Fibber MC Gee's closet”, my shame, my lack of perfection. My nemesis. My undoing. The proof I do not have things together. I am and always have been very hard on myself about this. It seems if I had it all together, I would be perfect but to get there everything must be perfect. I hear screaming.... Oh, never mind... it's just me.
Plus, I do a bit of hoarding. Holding on to things, so to speak. “I might be able to use this sometime.” Sentimental alley. Broken babbles, and stacks of papers. I do not know how to toss things. Throw it away? Yikes!!! I have dried out paint bottles for heaven's sake! Scraps of paper that was trimmed off of something. Buttons that belong to a pair of pants or blouse I no longer own. It's a cluster fuck in my mind and world. “What if I need this?” “How could I use this?” This is a project waiting to happen.” “Wow, that would make the perfect ____, or _____, or you fill in the _____. Blankety, blank....
I have stood in the middle of one of my storage tanks of creative possibilities and been so overwhelmed I left the room, garage, etc., and took a frigging nap. I've turned in circles like a ballerina with no choreographer. My toes are raw. My mind is weary. Where do you start??? I need the peace of finishing a room, especially my creative space. It's usually the place that sits in the most chaos, and it's the place I need to be in the most to heal. I want a studio where I know where everything is. I can reach for a tool I need. I can walk in and simply begin creating.
I just want to paint and maybe that's the trick to all of this.... Just Do IT!!!