Four mannequin heads and one neck and shoulders are unpacked. Boxes surround me, but far fewer today than last week when we unloaded the moving truck. After several years of creating in a cold basement with a halogen lamp brightening the concrete floor and walls and allowing me to see the actual colors of wool and silk, I now have a studio of my own. During the moving truck delay, we managed to paint both upstairs and down. There are windows lighting up my felting space. I have overhead lighting and I have heat. I also have carpeting, so I am playing with ways to protect the floor as I do my felting thing. If we weren't renting, I'd rip it out and put in cork flooring. But no. Must not destroy carpet with soapy water.
We are still without internet. I sit at Starbucks, taking a break from unpacking, and use the connection here and sip a latte courtesy of one of several Starbucks gift cards we were given before we left Michigan. I want to post photos of my felting studio in its stages of readiness; poop brown paint and wood paneling becomes sunny yellow walls; boxes to the ceiling turn into shelves of bins containing wool and yarn and silk; heads appear on a built-in ledge archly overlooking the chaos as it settles into stability. Sadly my photos are on my desktop and I am blogging from a laptop.
I have missed the deadlines for summer art fairs. Given the stress of this move, I'll have to accept that this is for the best. I already have a commission once I get my life in some sort of order. And I have so many sketches I want to bring to life. I can see the possibility of creating.