I’ve just awarded myself a little play with my toys after spending half an hour lurking in my studio trying to have a sort out. Well, once upon a time it was a studio, now it is a glorified cupboard, full of wonderful things with which to be creative if only I could find them. I have staggered in to the house with a huge bag of yarns and fleece and pretty fabrics and my task for the rest of the day is to sort and fold and pack and, whisper it, cull, until I have reduced the whole down to something manageable. If I do this every day for the rest of the year… no, no, don’t be so dramatic, Penny…for the next week or so, I may even have reclaimed a tiny bit of work space. The current Project G-J, still in the planning stage, is the building of a new studio. This will triple my work space with lots of storage for materials and books which will transform not only my creative life but free up all the places round the house currently housing little secret caches of fabric and wool and paper and threads and beads and paint…well, I’m sure you get the picture!
It really shouldn’t be allowed. I have been confronted by this sweetie jar every day for a fortnight when collecting our daily papers from the village shop. How pretty, I kept thinking, what a lovely photo it would make, how nice to have it sitting on a shelf in the kitchen. So now it’s mine. It does make a lovely photo, and it does look good sitting on the shelf in the kitchen. But it doesn’t look nearly as attractive now the top two inches have disappeared and I have a sore mouth and toothache and sadly, very little willpower! Ho hum…
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