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Furthermore . . .

Work in progress aka birthday party in progress

Last week I wrote about my Great Studio Clean Up. It was such a big, oddly significant thing. I was supposed to have done it in 2020, during the lockdown. At least, I intended to. Perfect time for that sort of project, right? I did not do a bit of it.

It was the lovely thing of painting that got me to do it.

All during the ten day Clean Up, I did not paint. Ugh. I so missed it! But I persisted with my project. After many days, I had enough space that I could go back to varnishing my finished paintings. Sacre bleu! Even just varnishing paintings, brushing on plain old clear varnish, I could feel a shift in my brain. It felt relaxing, pleasant, meditative. Ahh. Even that dull thing of varnishing felt so very nice.

Party accoutrements

Why? The Clean Up challenged my brain and body, but not like painting does. It was mentally tiring. Reading through things; rearranging; figuring out what to do about this or that; making all those decisions and judgments. Throw it away or keep it? Keep it where?? There was that one card that read, “I love you very much. David.” David? Who’s David?? I must be punished! Throw it away quickly! Don’t think of it again!

Painting takes me back to childhood. I love seeing the paint go on, the beautiful colors, the brush marks, the whatever-it-is texture showing through, the surprises. Especially when I’m starting a painting, it’s like a birthday party. It’s like my birthday party. I’m wearing the crown and I can do anything at all. I love getting paint on my fingers. I never did like glue, but paint is oh so much fun. I seem to have it permanently on my fingertips now, too, which makes me smile. And if I’m struggling with a painting and can’t get anywhere with it, I can just cover the whole thing with white and start over. La! I love that. There aren’t many things we do that allow for that. If your Thanksgiving turkey is dry or the cake falls, that’s it. Period.

So how lucky am I? Everyone doesn’t have a thing that does that for them, but many do. I see my neighbors with their gardens, having what I imagine is that same kind of joy. One of them gave me a pass on gardening, once I told her about my new love of painting and my reluctance to work on my disastrous flower bed. It’s a wonderful thing, having something you love to do, a beautiful, delicious, glorious thing. I hope you have something of your own, too.

“One must be serious about something, if one wants to have any amusement in life.”― Oscar Wilde

“A hobby is better than love.” ― Marty Rubin

“Count yourself blessed if you have something you love to do, but you are rarely able to do it because you’re too busy doing something else you love even more.” – Josh Steimle

“You have unlimited power on this canvas — can literally, literally move mountains.” ― Bob Ross

If you’re looking for my cards or art, you’ll find all of that on my website. And if you enjoy these letters, feel free to forward this one to anyone you think might like it. And if someone forwarded this one to you, you can sign up here to receive the letters right in your Inbox. Finally, you’ll find past letters and poems on my blog.

Thanks for listening,
Kay

P.S. MerryThoughts is the name of my first book, out of print at the moment. The word is a British one, referring both to a wishbone and to the ritual of breaking the wishbone with the intention of either having a wish granted or being the one who marries first, thus the “merry thoughts.”
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The Great Studio Clean Up!

Look!

No question what I’m writing about today! I have spent the last ten days decluttering, cleaning and rearranging things in my studio so that it would better suit my painting. Sheesh! I have a bad habit of setting papers and things aside to look at or file “later.” A likely story, eh? Boring stuff. Medicare For You, set-up guides for various electronic gadgets, insurance papers, bank stuff. Ugh. Things I never actually read or even want in my line of vision. But also articles I thought I’d read “one day,” my own handwritten lists of amazing ideas for creative projects, notes to self about all sorts of deep and interesting things and other possibly pithy writing–piles and piles and piles of paper.

Then there are all the hundreds of cards, notes and letters from people in my life, bits that make one feel quite loved, that one feels a definite pang about throwing away, things that one chooses, in the end, never to throw away. Those self-same loved ones will have to do it one day. C’est la vie! In the last ten days I have gone through at least ten very large piles of all these kinds of things in order to clear space in my studio (i.e., my brain) for painting.

Everyone knows that clutter in the environment really does clutter the brain. And once it starts, it grows, like mold. Ugh. Think of that! I have been working in a very messy environment for years, painting within a tiny space, all of my own doing. My many shelves and drawers have been jammed full of things–art supplies, cards made by others and bought by me, scads of collage materials. People say, “Oh, well, you’re an artist. You’re allowed.” No. Well, yes, I’m allowed, but it is still terrible and not fun.

Now that the paper rack is down, I have a nice big painting wall.

About halfway through the process, I looked around the room and thought, it looks almost the same. Ai-yi-yi!!! My son concurred. I was chipping away at the piles but my work surface was still crowded and tiny. Thus, I persisted. We took many bags of paper stuff to recycling. I dismantled and took down the great hulking paper rack holding handmade papers for collage. I don’t use the papers nearly as much now as I used to and the rack felt like a dinosaur leaning over me. I found a much better, more compact way to hang the papers and I put smaller pieces into bins with lids, reducing the visual clutter.

My pretty writing desk was not usable for writing, at all. And the floor beneath it was piled with stuff. Why, the rocks alone! Good God! I put a box marked COOL ROCKS on the curb and several of those were taken. (Also, I’m pretty sure at least one dog peed on it.) I have many more rocks that one would not even call “cool,” and they will be going back to the creek.

Today I gave a bunch of truly fun stuff to a friend for his granddaughter. Imagining her receiving all of it excited me nearly as much as the actual transformed studio. (Okay, I exaggerate. But I’d love to be a fly on the wall when she gets all of it.)

My toys are safely stored in a desk drawer. They’re not going anywhere!

So now, NOW I have some room to breathe.

Now I go again and again into the studio just to look. And I say to Oliver, “See? Look! Look at this!” After ten days he is, I think it’s fair to say, tired of being asked to look. My pretty writing desk! My big empty painting wall!! My expanded work surface. The drafting table. All mine. All ready for me. Of course, it was always all mine and it was I and no one else who turned it into a giant mess. Oliver? No. The dogs? No. Sadly, it was I. You did this to yourself, Old Lady.

But now, NOW look!

“Organization and cleanliness bring spaciousness. When there is space, inspiration and new possibilities can come in.” ― Aline Ra M, Bullshit-Free Mindfulness

“The mindless accumulation of vast mountains of stuff is unforgivably dumb. Mindful curation of meaningful possessions can be a great source of joy.”― Richard Meadows

“If it doesn’t nourish your soul, get rid of it.” – ZensationalLiving.com

“If a cluttered desk is a sign of a cluttered mind, of what, then, is an empty desk a sign?” – Albert Einstein

If you’re looking for my cards or art, you’ll find all of that on my website. And if you enjoy these letters, feel free to forward this one to anyone you think might like it. And if someone forwarded this one to you, you can sign up here to receive the letters right in your Inbox. Finally, you’ll find past letters and poems here.

Thanks for listening,
Kay

P.S. MerryThoughts is the name of my first book, out of print at the moment. The word is a British one, referring both to a wishbone and to the ritual of breaking the wishbone with the intention of either having a wish granted or being the one who marries first, thus the “merry thoughts.”

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Messy Studio

I am lucky to have a room in my house designated “my studio.” I feel a little bit pretentious when I call it that, but that really is what it is. In the state that it’s in, it could not possibly be used for anything else. I don’t imagine accountants are embarrassed to call their office “my office,” but I think it’s a hurdle for people who make art, even for a living, to say the words “my studio.” I usually have to say “the.” Anyway, I know I’m lucky to have this 9’ x 26’ space with lots of windows, all for making art. So lucky!

But it is “a bit of a dog’s breakfast” (see Merrythoughts, 9/20/21) all of the time. It’s a giant mess. I really hate that it’s such a mess and the mess is all mine, so wouldn’t you think I could just tidy it up and make it more pleasant? You’re thinking yes. I’m thinking yes, too, but also how?

When Covid hit and the shutdown happened, I thought it would be a perfect time to straighten and clean up my studio. Did I do it? No. In the Before Time, I had sometimes had Open Studio Shows, during which people would actually mill around back here. For those (although not always) I would make myself clear off the biggest flat surface (not the floor) so that I could display things properly on it. That only lasted for the duration of the Open Studio, though. And then, since Covid, there have been no Open Studio shows, so that has only exacerbated the problem.

Like most creative people (lately called by the dubious word, “makers”), I have accumulated scads of art supplies and pieces of thing that I imagine one day might go into the making of something amazing. Some of this I have never used. There are books about art and art-making. Blank books to fill up in some cool way. Sketchbooks. Washi tape. Pastels, crayons, markers, special colored pencils. Baskets full of framing supplies, gewgaws, ribbons, fake jewels and embellishments, rubber stamps, etc. Cigar boxes. Various (empty) containers in various shapes. All manner of glues. Old dictionaries, maps, and other paper stuff for collage. Packing materials for shipping cards and stuff that I sell online. And my giant rack full of handmade papers, which I’ve already cut down to half its original size, in an effort to make room and tidy my studio.

To complicate things further, I began painting this past summer, which brought in a whole other area of supplies that lie around in piles–paints (so many tubes of paint!); paper, boards and canvases to paint on; brushes and all sorts of mark making tools; masking tape; a large art journal; parchment paper; a hair dryer AND hairspray(!); and several stacks of things that I have painted. (I am hesitant to call them paintings, just yet.) And that large flat surface (not the floor)? Covered with paint now.

The largest flat surface (not the floor) upon which to work

People say, “Oh well, it’s a happy mess!” “You’re an artist!” “It’s fun!” Blah blah blah. But all of this stuff really does get in my way. I have very little surface upon which to work. I’m always having to shove something out of the way, or move one of the piles of thing two feet to a different spot. A friend has offered me an easel, since I took up painting–but I think, where would I put it?? It is stifling, really, this mess. I do feel that physical clutter does clutter up the mind. And yet.

Help me, Marie Kondo!!

“A sane man who is untidy seems crazier than a tidy man who is insane.” Mokokoma Mokhonoana

“There are three approaches we can take toward our possessions: face them now, face them sometime, or avoid them until the day we die.” – Marie Kondo

“Putting your house in order is the magic that creates a vibrant and happy life.” Marie Kondo

If you’re looking for my cards or art, you’ll find all of that on my website. And if you enjoy these letters, feel free to forward this one to anyone you think might like it. Finally, you’ll find past letters and poems here.

Thanks for listening,
Kay

P.S. MerryThoughts is the name of my first book, out of print at the moment. The word is a British one, referring both to a wishbone and to the ritual of breaking the wishbone with the intention of either having a wish granted or being the one who marries first, thus the “merry thoughts.”

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Clutter

Saucha was our lesson today, a word

referring to purity of thought and body,

yogic cleanliness, clarity, orderliness.

A quick glance at my messy studio

reveals a distinct lack of the latter.

Piles of papers fill my desk, cover the printer,

lie upon, let me just say it, practically every

flat, semi or slightly flat surface therein,

preventing the use of a fan on these hot days.

Items I might need one day rest in various spots

hither and thither where, when the time comes,

I imagine I will either recall exactly where they are

or find them easily amidst the chaos,

a naive imagining oft proven false.

One day, I tell myself, I will have all of it

organized, put away, filed, ordered, the many

surfaces dusted, the potentially useful spaces cleared,

a soothing tabula rasa in which to work.  One day.

This pure thought lies mouldering in my cluttered brain.