Since Squam, I have been spending more and more time in my studio, clumsily moving around trying to find my rhythm. I say clumsily, since the space functions as a computer and writing space for both me and hubby. This means there are multiple computers, printers, equipment and lots of piles of papers. My pretty papers in one corner along with supplies and his pile-o-work papers in the other. Some days our system works better than others. There are many evenings that all three of us, dog included with toys, are all crammed into the studio trying to work. It makes me laugh to think about it.
My sweet guy mentioned the other day he is ready to truly give me my own space to work. I thought this meant he was moving down to the basement, but no, he is ready to re-do the attic and let me have it all to myself. I think he is tired of me touching those boring papers of his [wink, wink]. After my total disbelief passed, I began digging through old magazine tears and saved Internet pictures to plan out my new space. Roughly, without all the pink, this is my dream.
The next couple of months will be filled with construction and picking out fixtures. But, all the while, I will be daydreaming of what this new space will mean for me on a much larger scale. The last time I had a playroom all to myself, I was three, right before my little brother was born. The thought of endless hours creating in a quiet space, that’s tucked away close to the clouds and among the tops of the trees, thrills me. In my little cocoon, who knows what I will emerge as. The possibilities are endless.