My Place

What a week!  I remember now how badly I procrastinate homework, no matter how artsy it may be.  I'm remembering how much I like working solo in class instead of in groups or pairs.  I'm even worse now than I was in college at becoming so involved in what I'm doing I forget to stop and pay attention when the instructor talks.  I'm feeling a bit on edge knowing each class will involve a new process or technique.  The learning phase is grating on the perfection bone & I'm fighting it the best I can.

Okay, enough whining - back to the reason for this next post:  The other kick in the pants.

Drum roll please...

"Aggie Doodles Studio"

I HAVE STUDIO SPACE!  Well, it's still mostly guest room -  2/3 bedroom and 1/3 art space.  But hey - it's a lot better than the ottoman.

Last weekend the mood struck and I hauled the ancient drawing table upstairs.  Then, I used the moving man coasters and my wimpy muscles to rearrange furniture.  My hubby arrived after I'd moved everything except the bed and, following his input, we moved everything again.  I spent the rest of the day arranging art tools, books and papers.

The items on the table will soon be hanging above it on the wall - next to the Normal Rockwell print that looks so much like my parents.

Draw or get karate chopped!

The doorknob sign came with my autographed copy of James Gurney's "Color and Light."  Tis fabulous!  Also - I love that his handwriting is nearly as sloppy as mine.

 

I am surrounded with memorabilia.  I excel in nostalgia.  In other words, I keep way too many ridiculous and wonderful things.  I blame my pack rat dad.  Above the shelves of art books, you can see the book my sister wrote & I illustrated a few years ago.  In front of it are several items that remind me of Dad.  Middle shelf - my black and blue grade school pot and my daughter's light blue 5th grade pot.  The polka dot ball is actually a circa 1977 paper mache light bulb - turned into a maraca.  I still call it a light bulb for inspiration.  Get it?  Light bulb = idea!  Right?  Anyway -  My first clay head (high school freshman) looks out from the bottom shelf.


On the dresser - aka taboret - the pot holding my neglected pen nibs and the wide-eyed owl were crafted by my daughter.  In the photo below you'll see a cup gifted to me on Valentine's Day, again from my daughter.

I don't know why I have so many daughter pots and no son pots.  A search of the house turned up more by her, but only one solitary clay item sculpted by him - have to investigate this mystery.



The chalk lays in probably the first pot I ever made - in 1974.  I only know this because of the scrawl on the bottom.  I have no memory of making it.

The other two pots were bought at the university pottery sale.  The lava lamp is my husband's.  He is nicely letting it stay there since he actually forgot he had it.  The wheat is from one of our fields and was used as decoration for my father-in-law's 80th birthday party 7 years ago.  See - I save stuff.


While my tools are now in one room, much of my high school and college art work are stashed under our basement stairs.  My future goal is to redo the guest room to include space to store that as well.  At some point the carpet will probably need to go.  I'm a sloppy artist and regardless of my efforts otherwise, spatters and spills are my norm.  My hubby is helping me research lighting.  Right now I'm TRYING to focus on drawing skills, but I want to paint too and that requires neutral lighting - not too blue, not too yellow.  I also yearn for a real easel.  I found a reasonably priced metal easel, but I'm hoping to someday talk my carpentry-gifted spouse into make one for me for Christmas. *cheesy grin*

I found this about a year ago while cleaning a drawer. No idea where it came from originally, but I know it's meant to hang out with me in my new "studio."